Veni, Vidi, Reliquit
by andeemae
Summary: "Just lean on Gale," Mellark tells her. He doesn't so much as glance at the back seat as he pulls onto the road, but Gale can almost see the dopey grin on his face. "He's super hot."-College AU, interconnected one shots, added to as the feeling hits me.
1. Veni, Vidi, Reliquit

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Veni, Vidi, Reliquit**

Madge didn't like parties. Not for her parents, not for school, and definitely not keggers on Thursdays at some idiots house just off campus. This was going to get her killed, she was going to end up as an episode of Dateline, as a warning to young girls about the dangers of college parties.

The little rental house looked like something straight out of Animal House. There were people in bedsheets running around, slinging cheap beer from their red plastic cups everywhere, some moron was trying to start the charcoal grill using what appeared to be a rub on shoe polish sponge and a clear substance of unknown flammability. Madge guessed the answer was 'highly'.

"Ish no w-workin'," he complained to his friend.

"You neeta light it, bro."

Madge began praying she was gone before they found anything, even a spare bit of flint and steel, to try out their innovation with.

She was going to kill Katniss and Peeta. They owed her big time for coming for their dumb butts.

They'd gone to the party, thrown by one of Katniss' fellow engineering students, just for a few drinks, then they'd said they were going to bow out and head home.

It hadn't quite gone that way.

Katniss had apparently gotten in a drinking game of some sort with one of the grad students. If being one drink from passing out meant you won, then Katniss had beaten the girl into the ground. Madge was fairly certain, though, that wasn't the case.

Peeta had called around the middle of the game, asking Madge to 'Please,_please,_ come get us'. Katniss was a notoriously mean drunk and Peeta had sounded a little tipsy too, though at least he still had enough sense at the time to call for help.

So Madge had rolled out of bed, thrown on some jeans and a hoodie, then drove, slowly, across town, to what looked to be a less than reputable neighborhood, to rescue her idiot friends.

She looked up at the house, her bubble of personal space was about to be painfully popped.

The house wasn't big, but it was packed with people, smelled of alcohol and too much body spray trying to mask the horrible odor. Taking a deep breath, Madge pushed through the sweaty, stinky, incredibly inebriated crowd, hoping it would be easy to find her missing friends.

Someone caught her by the elbow, let out a shrill squeal. Madge feels her heart stop in her chest.

"Oh my god! You came!" The platinum blonde pulled Madge into a hug, overwhelming her with the scent of expensive perfume and the liquor from the drink in her hand.

_Oh, god, my bubble!_

Madge recognized the girl from her statistics class. She'd made an unbearable class even more intolerable with her pointless questions and constant need to text during discussions. Even her name was annoying, Glory or Glamour or Glitter, something that belonged on some poor celebrity child. They'd never even spoken, clearly she had Madge mixed up with someone else.

The girl released her, smiling drunkenly, then squinting, "_You_ were supposed to pledge our house, what happened?"

Madge nearly corrects her, tells her she had never rushed and she was mixing her up with someone else, but instead shrugs. She just can't help herself.

"Oh, uh, I went with Omega Beta Zeta."

The girl squints, racks her lone brain cell, she doesn't recognize the name, but she's too drunk to put that together into words. She nods, makes a vague noise.

"I gotta go," Madge makes a face, gestures to the hallway leading away from the kitchen and the Ralph Lauren sheet wearing girl, and hopefully, to Katniss and Peeta.

Before Glimmer, _that_ was her name, can stop her she pushes off, toward the exit.

She gets stuck behind a couple messily making out, annoyingly blocking the hall entrance, when someone comes up behind her, blows hot air into her ear and whispers hoarsely, "What's your favorite scary movie?"

_Not him_.

That would be her luck.

She turns and finds her nose nearly bumping into the voice's cheek.

Gale Hawthorne, Katniss' long time neighbor and friend, and normally a complete jerk. While he and Madge had gone to school together, K-12 though he'd been a couple of years ahead, he'd basically pretended she didn't exist or was the most unappealing human he'd ever had to share oxygen with. He'd spent years mostly communicating with her through elaborate grunts, using full sentences only when necessary. It had stung a little, a lot if she was honest, he was possibly one of the cutest boys at their school and he looked at her like she was barely human.

Katniss still hung out with him, but Madge avoided him. It wasn't worth the effort and the damage to her ego.

Now, though, he's grinning at her as he straightens up.

"Scary movie? Really, Madge? You couldn't have gone with Pi Delta Pi or Zeta Beta Zeta?"

She gives him an uncertain look, "It's from Scream two, learn your movie references."

He smirks, puts his arm over the top of her, palm against the wall, and leans in. Madge leans back. He's in her bubble.

"Why don't you teach me some then?"

She makes a face. Why is he being nice to her? Almost flirting with her? Normally he treats her as if she ranks with jock itch in the list of things that annoy him.

Then his breath hits her. A little pungent, heavy with alcohol. She rolls her eyes, of course he's drunk, that would be the only way he would be nice to her.

She takes a step back, bumps into the wall and crosses her arms.

"Gale, I'm looking for Katniss and Peeta, have you seen them?"

Surely he had, he was probably the one that had goaded Katniss into coming to the party in the first place. She wouldn't be surprised if this was his house, actually.

He nods, but doesn't say anything, just continues to grin drunkenly at her.

She huffs, "Well?"

Gale scratches his cheek, covered in a dark stubble, looks around, ignoring her question. "You want something?" He points to the fridge, "Uh, Thom brought some wine coolers and some hard lemonade, you like those?"

"I don't drink." She's going to strangle him if he doesn't focus. Her voice raises an octave, there's too many people crushing in on her and she just wants to leave. "I'm not here for the party. Listen, I'm here for Katniss and Peeta. They need a ride home. Please tell me where they are."

He squints, processing her words, her tone, then points down the still blocked hallway.

Madge forces a smile, "Thank you."

Now she can collect her friends and get out of this hell hole.

If she can get the gross couple to move.

She ducks under Gale's arm, goes back to the couple, tries poking each of them on the shoulder, but they're too absorbed with each other to notice. A deep, authoritative voice booms out behind her.

"The lady needs through."

Gale pushes them aside, not that they notice, then waves Madge through.

"Thank you."

He follows her down the tiny dark hall. She looks back at him and frowns.

"I'm pretty sure I can find them from here." She doesn't need an escort.

He shrugs, continues to breathe down her neck. It's unnerving, how close he is, dressed only in a sheet. She eyes the pattern in confusion.

"Are you-are those your sheets?"

He grins again, looks down at his toga. "The Avengers? Yep."

Her eyebrows arch up. Of course. Why not?

"I've got Iron Man on my boxers. Wanna see?"

Madge closes her eyes. She's glad there's more between them than just his children's section sheet, but she doesn't need visual confirmation. With a little grimace, she shakes her head.

Gale snorts, "Prude."

Ignoring him, she continues down the hall, until Gale stops and puts his hand on the handle of the only door on the right. When he swings it open, they get an eyeful.

"Oh god!"

"Shut the door!"

"Oh god!"

It was too late though, they'd seen too much. Arms, legs, and a whole lot of naked.

Madge covered her face and turned to the opposite wall. She needed to bleach her eyes, her brain, burn the image of Katniss and Peeta impersonating an octopus out of her memory.

Gale clears his throat, "I, uh, guess we should've knocked."

_Yes, yes we should have._

The door creaks open, just enough for Peeta's blonde head to poke out.

"Hi, Madge."

She doesn't turn from the wall. She can't look at him.

"Uh, well, she woke up, and, uh, well-"

"Peeta, please just get dressed," she gently bangs her forehead into the wall.

He makes an affirmative noise and she hears the door gently shut.

The hall is quiet, only the muffled noise of the music from the front of the house keeps it from complete silence.

"Party in the USA?" Gale groans.

Madge keeps her face in the wall, "You're at a college party, what do you expect? Indie rock hits?"

He flops onto the wall next to her, shrugging. "I requested Seether."

"Good luck with that." She doubts he's getting anything but top 40 hits while he's here. "Just enjoy what you get."

He chuckles, nudges her with his shoulder, "Are you going to turn around?"

She isn't sure. Seeing Katniss and Peeta like that might be the end of their friendship with Madge. There are some things you just can't come back from.

"Gotta hand it to Mellark, that was a pretty creative-"

Madge covers her ears. She does _not_ need a reminder.

She feels his breath come down on her in a hot puff, he's laughing at her.

"You are such a prude."

"Whatever." She finally turns, crosses her arms and stares at the door, waiting for the other two to hurry up and get out so she can go home and begin purging her mind with Disney movies.

Gale reaches over and begins toying with a strand of her hair that's escaped her ponytail. He twirls it around his finger idly.

Madge gives him a scrutinizing look. His hair is mussed, not that it's ever all that tidy. He could use a shave, he has what she suspects is a two or three day grown coming on across his cheeks, chin, jaw, and down his neck. There's a smudge of what looks suspiciously like lipgloss, smeared on the side of his mouth. His gait was steady and his eyes aren't unfocused, in fact, they look amazingly clear in the dull light from the naked hallway bulb. He isn't as drunk as she'd originally thought, which baffles her to no end.

She tugs the strand from his fingers. She needs him out of her bubble.

His mouth turns down, a little crease forms between his eyes.

Her attention goes back to the door across from her.

"Why don't you drink?"

_What?_ She frowns as she turns to him.

"You said you don't drink. Why not?"

It really annoys her when people ask her that, as if not wanting to drink makes her some kind of circus freak. She doesn't like the taste or the smell or what it does to people. Everyone has preferences, and hers happened to not include alcohol.

"I just don't."

Gale watches her for a moment, tugs at Captain America's face to loosen the knot keeping his toga up. "Okay."

The door finally opens and a sheepish looking Peeta followed by a glowering Katniss emerge.

"Pervert," Katniss hisses at Gale before she stumbles into Peeta. She may be standing, doing other things, but she's still pretty drunk. She glares at Peeta, as though he's the one that fell into her, grabs him around the neck to keep herself upright, then commands him to walk.

Grinning, Peeta helps his very unsteady girlfriend down the hall.

Gale takes the tail of his toga and makes a whipping noise. Madge rolls her eyes.

"What? He is."

"He's a good boyfriend." Madge gives him a sharp look, "You'd probably encourage whatever girl you were with to get on a table and strip."

Though from what she remembers of Gale's 'girlfriends' they wouldn't have needed neither the encouragement nor the drinks to do that.

He actually looks a little offended, gives her a glare, "Have a real high opinion of me don't you?"

Madge stops and gives him a faint smile, "Like my opinion matters."

They follow Peeta and Katniss, clad in pink and yellow togas, out the sliding glass door, into the backyard, strewn with cups and empty bottles. Madge feel relief wash over her as she steps out of the stuffy house. The grillmaster from earlier and his friend are there, Madge notices they're both missing their eyebrows, the must've found a lighter or matches. They have several very large fireworks set up, on the grass, a little too close to the house. Their failure to burn the neighborhood down with their deadly concoction at the grill apparently disappointed them, they were upgrading to gunpowder.

_Those two are about to win a couple of Darwin Awards._

"It does," Gale says suddenly, as they pass the last of the fireworks.

Madge frowns.

"Your opinion, it matters."

She wrinkles her nose, "Why?"

He didn't even like her. Why would he care what she thought of him or his flings?

Gale shrugs, "It just does."

Right as she starts to counter him, tell him to stop being so cryptic, she spots where her car should be. It's not though.

"I left it right here." She locked it. She had her keys in her hand. Where was it?

Gale grimaces, "This isn't a great neighborhood."

Great, now she had to file a police report and then explain to her parents why she was in a shady part of town and had her car stolen. Fantastic.

The joke was on whoever stole it, though. That car was one missed oil change away from biting the dust. She isn't sure what an alternator is, but it sounded pretty damn important, and the guy that worked on her family's cars told her it was about to go out.

Peeta looks around, "Uh, mines gone too."

This night just kept getting better and better.

Madge presses her fingers to her eyes until she sees stars.

"Come on, we can take my truck," Gale gestures down the road.

She starts to ask what they'll do if Gale's truck is gone, but the moment they cross the street, spot the sandblasted single cab that looks like it might collapse under its own rusted weight, she lets the question die.

Katniss attempts to crawl in the bed, but her foot slips off the tire and she bangs her chin against the side.

"Just get in the front," Madge grumbles. She just wants to get home and plan what she's going to tell her parents.

"No way." Gale shakes his head. "She's gonna hurl any minute now. I know this girl. The moment this thing starts moving she's going to lose it and I don't want to be in a closed space with her when she does."

Katniss glares at him and mumbles some very unflattering things, but loses some of her bravado when she starts to gag.

Peeta nods, "I'm with Gale. The back seems like a wiser choice."

Gale drops the tailgate and he and Peeta push an increasingly sluggish Katniss up. Peeta crawls in after her, helping her shuffle to the front.

Madge eyes her warily, "Put her on her side. That way if she throws up she won't choke."

Gale pulls out his keys and opens the door, but Madge snatches them away.

"Hey!" He makes to grab them back. "What are you doing?"

"You've been drinking. I'm driving."

He scoffs, "I just had a few cups. I'm fine now."

She shakes her head and hides the keys behind her back. He reaches around her, trapping her between him and the hood of his truck. He lets out a little growl of frustration, "Give them back."

He's too close, she can feel her heart pounding. She isn't sure what he'll do, and that terrifies her, but he can't have the keys.

"Gale, please," she uses her softest voice, the one she uses with her mother when she's in a state.

Gale frowns and backs away, raising his hands in surrender.

He opens the door for her and she crawls in, noticing, to her horror, it's a standard.

_Shit._

Gale slides in the passenger door, across the seat, stretching his arm behind her. She shoots him a look, does he not understand the concept of personal space?

"There's a whole side. Do you have to sit on me?"

"My truck." He narrows his eyes, "Do you know how to drive stick?"

She'd done it exactly once. It had ended in tears.

He doesn't need t know that though.

After several false starts, several kills, they finally get to the main road, settle into a slow pace.

Gale, still leaning on her, watching the speedometer, gives her a smirk, "You can kick it up, go a _little_faster you know? I'd like to make it back home before dinner."

"Ha, ha." She rolls her eyes.

If he would scoot away, stop staring her down, she could do this. He was too close, she could smell the last traces of his cologne and the detergent from his toga mixing with the musty smell of his sweat. He was making _her_ sweat. His breath kept skipping across her neck and hair, the alcohol was almost gone, but it was still a little stale.

"I wasn't going to hurt you."

She stops herself from looking at him, her eyes need to stay on the road, even if they're barely going.

"I know." She didn't. Not really.

"Someone hit you?"

Her head snaps over. Where had that come from?

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

Gale stares at her for a minute, thinking over his words carefully, like she's made of glass. He shrugs, "You looked like you were waiting for me to snap." He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Madge, if someone hurt you…"

Madge bites her lip, looks back and forth from him and the road. He's being very nice, a little too nice, but it's pleasant. She wishes he talked to her like this all the time instead of waiting until he's had a few drinks.

"No one has hurt me." He's taking the superheroes on his sheet a little too close to heart. "My-my aunt was killed by a drunk driver."

Before she was even born, but she was still being haunted by the accident that killed her mother's twin. Her mother, who'd been in the car as well, had healed from her physical injuries, but her emotional damages were never quite mended. She'd become addicted to pills, narcotics, something she was able to hide for years before anyone even noticed. Their family was in constant flux, trying to get her mother the help she needed.

Madge spent most of her childhood watching her mother battle with her demons, in and out of facilities, missing birthdays and school functions, even Madge's high school graduation.

That's nothing Gale needs to know, though, not at the moment.

"I'm sorry."

She shrugs, "I just don't want to put another family through a death if I can keep it from happening."

Even if it makes everyone think she's a circus freak.

He stays quiet for the rest of the ride. A few times she thinks he might've passed out, but he's just sitting, his arm across her back, watching the road slowly move ahead of them.

When they finally pull up to she and Katniss' apartment, Madge lets out a sigh of relief. She almost gets out and kisses the ground, she's that happy.

Gale and Peeta heave the now loudly snoring Katniss from the bed of the truck and carry her up the steep steps to the apartment.

When they get inside, Peeta carries his girlfriend into her room and kicks the door shut.

Gale flops into the sofa and stretches out.

Madge frowns, "What are you doing?"

He gives her an incredibly serious stare, "I've been drinking. I can't drive."

_So he's staying here._

Damn him, using her issues against her.

"Fine." She reaches into the closet, pulls down the most horrible, pinkest, fuzziest blanket they own, and tosses it to him. "I'm giving you a wake-up call with 'Wrecking Ball', though, just so you know."

His eyes narrow, "Don't you dare."

Madge smirks. She would dare. All she had to do was download it.

Gale unties the knot on his toga, pulls it off and tosses it at her. She ducks it and just catches a glimpse of his Iron Man boxers before he covers himself with the too short blanket. Great, now the only thing between her microfiber sofa and his nakedness was Tony Stark.

She makes a face at that thought and starts to walk away.

"Hey Madge?"

Turning, she finds him leaning over the back of the sofa, watching her, his expression is a little guarded.

"Yeah?" Make it quick, she nearly says, it's almost two in the morning. She wants to go to bed.

"What _is_ your favorite scary movie?"

Her nose wrinkles. Why does he want to know? Telling him is definitely a bad idea. "Why?"

He shrugs, "I dunno, I thought, maybe, you know, we could pull it up sometime. Watch it together…"

She still doesn't quite understand, "Why?"

Gale lets out a groan, "As a date."

It takes a second for her to process what he's saying. He wants a date, with her, watching a scary movie. She's having some weird dream. That's the only explanation for what she's hearing.

"You don't even like me."

"Of course I do! Why would I want to go on a date with you if I didn't like you?"

"Because you're drunk." He wasn't falling down drunk, but he was still clearly inebriated. He wouldn't be asking her on a date otherwise. In the morning he'd be back to grunting at her.

Gale throws himself back in the sofa in frustration, making a strangled noise and covering his face. His voice comes out muffled, "I'm not drunk!"

He rolls off the sofa, stomps over to her. She backs up, uncertain what he's going to do. Then his hands are cupping her face, much more gently than she expects, and he kisses her.

The beer is still there, stale, but weaker, his lips are chapped, a little eager, and the scruff of his stubble is irritating against her skin. He eases her back until she bumps into the wall, then his body, tall and lean and in nothing but boxers is against hers. Rough hands ghost up her waist, just under her hoodie. He makes a needful noise in the back of his throat, groans, before finally breaking the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'm not drunk. I like you. Do you want to go on a date?"

She's still trying to catch her breath, but manages to get a question out, "Why do you like me all of a sudden?"

He sighs, "I've always like you." She rolls her eyes, he had a funny way of showing it. "I just, back in school you were _you_ and so perfect and I was _me,_ and kind of a loser, no one even thought I'd get into college…" He traces her cheeks with his thumbs. "What's it that Mellark calls it, a defense mechanism? I knew I couldn't have you, I wasn't good enough, so I just kinda…"

"Treated me like dog food?"

He makes a face, "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Maybe not, but it felt like it when she was younger.

"What's different now?"

A little smile sneaks onto his face, "I just got an internship. They called me today, told me I was in." His smile bursts full force, "I'm not a loser after all."

Madge's cheeks hurt and she realizes she's smiling, beaming at him. "Gale, you were never a loser." How could he ever have thought that? "That's great though!"

He pulls her into a hug, buries his face in her hair. Her bubble is nonexistent at this point. Still, it's a little awkward, he's practically naked and her arms are pinned to her sides. She supposes it could be worse, her hands could be trapped in front of her.

She feels his hot breath on her scalp, hears him swallow thickly, "So…how about it?" He pulls back, "Date?"

Madge makes a thoughtful face, "How about 'The Exorcist'?"

He makes a face.

"Does my choice _scare_you?"

Gale chuckles, "Your driving _scares_me. Your movie choice makes me a little concerned."

Madge snorts, "Too late to back out now."

He leans in, kisses her again, more gently, "Wouldn't dream of it."

Maybe she wouldn't kill Katniss and Peeta after all.

They still owed her one, though, maybe she'd make them explain to her parents what happened to her car.


	2. 12 Date

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**1/2 Date**

It had been a mistake to try sushi on their first date.

Gale had promised her it was good, but he had an iron gut, could dispose of any and all foods no matter how questionable they were. Madge, on the other hand, had what he and Katniss described as a 'delicate constitution' when it came to edibles.

The roll, which had the innocent sounding name of the 'Aloha State' in its moniker, had been her first choice. What bad could possibly come from Hawaii?

A lot apparently.

She hadn't even completely chewed her first bite when she began gagging. The texture, the flavor, every aspect of it seemed to scream 'get it out' in her mind, but she'd just barreled on, swallowed it down without completely chewing.

Mistake.

Not half a minute later her stomach gurgled and she was running through the restaurant with her hand over her mouth, dodging the chairs of other patrons as she raced to the bathroom.

It was only by the grace of some higher power that she made it to the toilet before that one bite found its way back up through her esophagus and out her mouth.

Now she's collapsed on the surely disgusting floor of a public restroom, her mouth tasting of vomit and semi digested seafood.

Her stomach still hasn't forgiven her. It rolls and rumbles, threatening to send up more ghosts of meals past to visit her, teach her a lesson about trying new things. And that lesson was _don't_.

Someone knocks on her stall door, a woman's soft voice calls out to her, "Miss? Are you okay in there?"

_I'm dying!_

"I'm fine."

Madge can see her shoes move under the door, hesitate for a minute, then she knocks again, "Are you sure?"

_No._

"Yes."

"Your boyfriend is outside the door. He's very worried."

_Tell him this is his fault._

"Tell him I'm fine."

For a minute the woman stands at the door, then her feet disappear and Madge lets her head rest back against the cool metal on the side of the stall. Until another wave of nausea hits her.

She grabs the bowl, retches in, and looses yesterday's lunch.

Heaven help her, she's holding onto a public toilet. There isn't enough soap and hand sanitizer in the world, she's either going to have to cut off her hands or put them in the chemistry department's autoclave. Those are her only options.

While she's heaving, gagging, someone comes up behind her and pulls the loose strands of hair from her slowly collapsing bun out of her face. It startles her for a moment, but she's too sick to worry about whoever is touching her.

When she finally stops she feels a rough hand gently run up and down her back. Glancing over, she finds Gale crouching down to her left, trapped between she and the bathroom stall. He has a paper towel, dampened, in his hand, takes it and hands it to her.

Utterly embarrassed, Madge wipes her mouth and nose. Their first date and she's got throw-up coming out her nose. She blots a few tears from the corners of her eyes.

What a lovely picture she must be.

"I'm so sorry."

She wouldn't blame him if he left her right now. She's a complete mess over one bite.

Gale chuckles, "For what?"

With a garbled laugh she gestures to her face, hair, then the toilet.

He shrugs, "At least you didn't do it in my mouth."

There's probably a story there, but she's one hundred percent certain she doesn't want to know it.

For a minute they sit on the floor of the stall, Madge still half laying on the stool and Gale's hand in her hair. Finally, she nods, "I think I'm through."

Gale gets up, puts his hands under her arms and pulls her to her feet. She wobbles, doesn't have her balance completely, so he pulls her to him.

She immediately holds her arms out. They've been on the toilet, the _public_ toilet. She at least needs to wash them off.

"Sink. I need the sink."

He steers her to the sink and she grimaces as she sees her reflection.

She's seen mug shots on cop shows that look less deranged. Her mascara is running on the sides, she's smeared her blush off, making her pale and washed out, the gloss she'd put on was long gone, and her hair…it was past the point of rescue.

Tears began working their way into her eyes.

Quickly, she turns the water to the hottest lukewarm temperature it will go to and scrubs her hands raw before ducking down and washing the last remnants of her fading makeup from her face.

It doesn't really improve her looks, but it makes her feel a little better.

Sniffling, she turns and finds another paper towel, dry this time, in Gale's outstretched hand.

After she's dried, taken a breath, standing on her own, she nods to Gale again, "Okay. Let's go."

He leads her out, through the restaurant, a walk of shame of sorts, with his warm hand on the small of her back. When they get outside the cool air hits her and she feels the lingering nausea subside. She lets out a sigh of relief.

"Better?"

Madge grimaces, keeps her face down. "Yeah."

His hand creeps up her back, to her neck, massaging it a little before letting it drop. They stand there, a little awkwardly, for a few minutes, Madge just taking a few breaths to clear the smell and taste from her mouth and nose.

"I'm sorry I ruined the date."

He huffs, "You didn't ruin it." His had reaches out, one of his fingers tips her chin up trying to make her look at him, "You got us a free meal out of the deal."

She snorts, a little trapped vomit escapes and she gags again. Gale had wisely brought a handful of towels with him and hands her one.

"I think most of my free meal went down the drain."

"Money well spent."

"Don't make me laugh!" It makes nasty stuff happen.

He takes one of the towels and pinches it to her nose, "God, you're worse than my sister."

Madge shivers, it's getting chilly, and while she's contemplating how badly she must look and how pathetic it is that her might-be, sorta-is, boyfriend is wiping her nose, he pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly to his chest.

"Gale, I'm disgusting." She's been on the floor in the restroom at a restaurant, flailing over a toilet, bits of the bowl water had probably splashed up in her face and hair…

"You're cold."

His hands rub up and down her back a few times, getting progressively lower each time.

"Gale…"

He grins, raises his eyebrows, as if he doesn't know what she's trying to tell him.

"Can we go home? I need a shower." She needs to boil her skin.

He doesn't answer, just bends down a little and hoists her up.

She squeals, "Gale!"

Running, he carries her to his banged up truck and yanks open the passenger side door, tossing her in.

"Oh, I get to ride inside?" She points to the truck bed. "Not gonna give me the 'Katniss' treatment?"

"There's only one reason you're ever going in that truck bed, and it isn't because you're tossing your cookies."

Madge's nose wrinkles up. She doesn't get it.

"Wha-"

He shuts the door and runs around the truck and gets in the driver's side.

"Here," he reaches behind the seat and pulls a blanket out, hands it to her before starting the truck. His eyes flicker over to her, "Uh, my place is closer…"

Madge feels her heart stop. Her mouth dries and she feels her face warm again. She might throw up again.

They hadn't even gotten through a first date. Did they still have to go back to his place? Can't she get a redo? A mulligan?

They didn't even get through _one date…_

Gale must sense her distress, notice he's said something that put her in a panic, because his eyes widen and he reaches out, rests his hand on her shoulder.

"Madge, I just meant for you to take a shower."

Her heart sputters, begins beating again, and she lets out a broken little laugh.

"I knew that."

Honestly? She didn't.

He seems to sense that, takes his finger and traces her cheek, gives her a small, reassuring smile.

"Do you know how long I've liked you?"

Madge frowns, what did that have to do with anything?

Gale reaches over, grabs her around the waist and pulls her to his side. His arm stretches out, over and around her back, then he leans over a little, rests his cheek on her filthy, disheveled hair.

"Do you remember your seventh grade year?"

She does. Unfortunately. Despite her best efforts to forget it.

"Katniss told me the teacher made you all pair off and that no one wanted to be partners with her-"

That was true. Mostly because almost everyone thought Katniss was just the teensiest bit scary.

"-but you did."

Not entirely true. No one wanted Madge either. She was quiet and easily forgotten. No one wants the girl that they can't even be bothered to remember exists half the time.

"You made her feel like less of an outcast. I know it didn't seem like it, but she appreciated it. She liked you. Told me about you. I mean, I kinda knew you before, knew who you were, but the first time you came to her house…" He lets out a long breath.

Madge feels her face burn. 'Seventh grade' Madge had looked only slightly less disastrous than 'Just rolled around on a bathroom floor' Madge. Her hair had been permed, face had been broken out, skin constantly greasy, and her clothes…

It was best not to think about the fashion of her junior high self.

The awkward early years of puberty had been unkind to her to say the least.

Not that she felt she was going to win any beauty contests now, but at least she wasn't impersonating an eighties hair band.

Gale's look of nostalgia tells her he clearly has her mixed up with some other, far more fortunate girl.

"You were wearing this pretty little dress, white, and you wore a blue bra under it."

Not one of her better choices. She hadn't really 'bloomed' until that year, coordinating bras under shirts was a little more tricky than panties under pants.

"You were so beautiful and so sweet." He grins down at her, "And so out of my league it wasn't even funny."

Yeah, he _definitely_ had her mixed up with someone else.

"Gale…"

He looks like he might kiss her, which, quite honestly, is a little gross. She still tastes vomit in her mouth.

Instead, he bends a little more, nuzzles into her ear, "I've been in love with you since I was fifteen. I waited this long, I'll wait some more."

Madge _really_wishes she didn't smell and taste so nasty, he deserves at least a very long, very hard kiss for that.

"We can go to your place." She gives him a little smile, "For a shower. And to brush my teeth."

She hopes he has an extra one.

Gale puts the truck in drive, keeps his arm around her shoulder. She admires his dedication to it, she knows she stinks.

"We get you cleaned up then we use Mellark's password to watch something. Sound good?"

Madge nods into his side, takes a deep breath, trying to replace the acrid smell of vomit from her nose with him, soap, detergent, cologne, and _him_.

The sushi had been a mistake, no doubt about that, but maybe the date could be salvaged after all.


	3. Can't Take 'Em Anywhere

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Can't Take 'Em Anywhere**

"What exactly are we looking for again?"

Gale and Katniss exchange a look, silently agreeing they shouldn't have brought the 'city mice' with them to find their new toys.

"Bow string," Katniss reminds them, her mouth turned down. Madge thinks if either she or Peeta asks again they'll be strangled with said bow string as soon as it's found.

The only reason Peeta had come was because he and Katniss wanted to go to the movies after and it made no sense to waste gas driving up after. When Katniss mentioned Gale was meeting them, Peeta had begged Madge to go with them. Something about it being awkward with just the three of them.

"How will it be any less awkward with me there?" Honestly, it would probably be worse.

Peeta shrugged, "Someone else for me to talk to when they go all zombie apocalypse?"

Madge wrinkled her nose, "But I'll have to ride home with him…"

An odd little smirk flickered on Peeta's face, but maybe she was imagining things, then he made his most obnoxious pout, "Please, Madge? For me? Take one for the team."

She was such a pushover when it came to her friends.

The moment they walk through the faux cabin doors of the sporting goods store Madge notices the taxidermy. Bison, turkey, squirrels, what appeared to be a skunk…

Peeta nudges her, "Does this…remind you of anything?"

"Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls?"

"We are so on the level."

They trail behind the purposefully striding Katniss and Gale, who seem to know exactly where they are going.

Madge scans her surroundings, all the shelves were packed with things she'd never even considered. She reaches out and plucks a bottle up.

"Fox urine?" What do you do with fox urine? How do you _collect_fox urine?

Peeta, who is studying psychology, eyes it, fighting a smile, "Clearly for the deeply disturbed."

Katniss and Gale turn, both looking a little offended.

"_We_ buy fox urine," Gale growls.

Not even looking flustered, Peeta grins over to Madge, "I rest my case."

Katniss huffs, takes off again. Gale snatches the bottle from Madge and slams it back onto the shelf. Madge knows it's a bad idea, Gale is in a consistently bad mood, especially when she's around, but she has to ask.

"What do you do with 'fox urine'?"

"We use it to cover our scent during hunts."

Well, _obviously_. How could she have been so stupid.

Madge wrinkles her nose, "So…do you, what, rub it on you?"

She's never seen Gale blush, he may not even be capable of doing so, but his face darkens.

"No." He actually sounds a little flustered. He doesn't elaborate, so she thinks he might be lying. This is something she'll need to investigate further.

Before she can question him, the thought of he and Katniss rubbing animal urine on themselves is a little humorous, and incredibly gross, he takes off.

"They _do_ rub it on themselves," Peeta gags.

After finding a can of bear mace ("How close do I have to be to the bear to mace it?") and trying out several duck calls ("Can I use this to find Donald at Disneyworld?") Gale turns to them and glares.

"Are you trying to be annoying?"

Madge is. She really doesn't want to be there, but if she's going to, she might as well enjoy it.

He and Katniss begin testing out new bows, they can't really afford them, but Madge guesses it's like window shopping for normal people. She turns to Peeta, to ask him to google the fox urine, it has some major potential, but finds he's disappeared.

She turns on the spot. _Where did he go?_

Then she spots him, across the store, in the marine section, climbing aboard a large boat display.

He's under a sign with the words 'Tracker' emblazoned on it, waves at her from the deck and mouths the words, 'I'm on a boat!', then begins dancing.

Katniss groans, "I can't take him anywhere."

She jogs off to retrieve her boyfriend, muttering 'idiot' under her breath as he begins reenacting Leo's famous 'King of the World' scene.

Madge scans the area for security, certain they'd be coming anytime now. Climbing on a display is usually frowned upon, they'd discovered that many years ago at the state fair.

Gale makes a derisive noise, turns his back just as Katniss reaches the boat, and goes back to his bows.

With Peeta's entertainment being ended, Madge wanders over to a display of various firearms. She doesn't care for guns, but there isn't anything else to do.

"Want to see something?"

The guy behind the counter is blond, tall and muscular, handsome in a way. He smiles at her, his eyes rake over her and she feels an unpleasant lurch in her stomach. She doesn't like the gleam in his eye. Her own eyes flicker to his badge, 'Cato'. He gestures to the line of guns locked up behind him, "We have them in pink too."

_Lovely._

"Oh, no thanks."

She backs from the counter, down an aisle with hunting knives.

"Need a knife instead," he saunters down after her. Apparently he can't take a hint.

"I'm just waiting for a friend," she immediately looks around, searching for Katniss or Peeta, but they're nowhere to be seen, probably escaping security. Just her luck

"Boyfriend?" He leans his shoulder into the glass display, eyes fixed on her.

She doesn't even hesitate, just blurts out 'yeah' without thinking.

Cato looks disbelieving, smirks, takes a step forward. Madge feels her heart speed up, they're in the middle of a store, he can't do anything, but she's still on edge. She hates pushy people like him.

Madge gives him her sternest glare, tries channeling Katniss' 'go to hell' look. She's just going to tell him to back off or she'll get his manager. To her great surprise, though, without her uttering a word, he stops in his tracks.

A hand finds its way around her waist, pulls her roughly against something warm and solid. She catches a whiff of cologne and mint, toothpaste still on his breath, as Gale lets out a snort of irritation. She's never been so happy to hear his annoyed voice in her life.

"What're you doing?" He looks at Cato with more dislike than he'd ever even given Madge.

Cato's eyes narrow, flicker from Madge to Gale and back again.

"This your _boyfriend_?"

She nods. If it'll get Cato to back off she'll say Gale is her husband.

Gale's fingers flex into her stomach, tickling her a little, she shudders, trying to keep from giggling at the sensation.

"Huh," Cato chuckles coolly, "thought she looked a little dim." He smiles wickedly, "Perfect for you then, Hawthorne."

Madge lets out a little huff of irritation. She can't even form words, she's so agitated by the insult.

"Smart enough to know you're an asshole," Gale growls, pulls Madge tighter to him.

_Wow. Way to defend my honor._ At least he conceded she was a _little_ smart. It was something she supposed.

Cato snickers, rolls his eyes at them, before heading to his counter. He turns back to them, gives Madge one more once over. "I'm not much for taking some disease infested bottom feeders sloppy seconds, but if you want to upgrade," he motions to his counter, "I'll be here."

Madge tries not to gag as Cato disappears around the corner, and hopefully out of her life.

Gale still has her tightly pressed to him, his hand still clenching in her stomach. She can feel his voice rumble against her back when he speaks, "What were you doing talking to that dick?"

Any feelings of gratitude are cooled with his implying she'd invited Cato's aisle stalking. Roughly, she shoves Gale's arm off her middle and steps away, turning to glare at him.

"I _wasn't_." She straightens her posture, trying to match his height a little, "He just started following me. I was trying to get away."

He rolls his eyes, "Good job there."

Of course he'd think she'd wanted Cato to follow her around like some kind of deranged mutt. Drooling all over her and looking at her like she was his next meal.

Her heart catches a little. Did she look like someone that would encourage that kind of thing? She'd just been trying to get away quietly. There was nothing wrong with that was there?

No, Gale was just messing with her. Being a jerk.

Madge grumbles to herself. She isn't going to stand here and fight with Gale with an entire display of deadly weapons right within eyesight. Giving him a dark look, she walks away, back in the marine section's direction to find Katniss and Peeta.

They come up the aisle as she passes a display of nuts with donkey on it. She stops and Gale plows into the back of her.

"Don't follow so close," she mutters, jerking away.

Peeta's brow wrinkles, he's about to ask what's wrong, but Madge shoots him a look. She doesn't want to talk about it. At least not right now.

Instead she gives him a scrutinizing look, "What took so long?"

Katniss' scowl deepens, "I had to convince security not to throw him out."

Peeta smiles sheepishly, gives his girlfriend an apologetic shrug, but Madge almost thinks getting kicked out of the store might've been his goal. How dare he not include her in his brilliant plan!

Still looking agitated, though to be fair she almost always looked like that a little, Katniss grabs Peeta by the arm and drags him back with her to the bows. Gale gives Madge a confused look as she brushes past him.

"Why are you mad at me for?" He hisses.

Madge bites her tongue. How dense was he?

"I helped you," he growls. She can hear something. If he were a normal person, someone with a heart instead of a lump of coal in his chest, she'd think it was hurt, but this was Gale. He didn't care if she's upset. His asking was some kind of short circuit in his wiring.

She doesn't stop, ups her speed to catch the other two. When she's close enough she jogs past them, she needs a break from Gale and his cluelessness, "I gotta go to the bathroom. Text me if you check out before I get back."

Before Katniss can roll her eyes and ask if she wants her to come too, even though Madge would rather Peeta escort her, Madge cuts through a section of insulated coveralls and around some bright orange jackets on her way to the bathroom.

She stays gone for a good ten minutes, wanders off to find a coke machine and immerses herself in a section of old fashioned candies before Peeta texts her that they're done finding the bow string and are ready to leave. That would be great, except she remembers she has to ride home with Gale.

Maybe Katniss and Peeta will let her tagalong on their date…

A sense of foreboding hanging over her head, she slowly makes her way to the front, to the registers, pays for her sour gummy worms, then, scraping her flip-flops across the ground, makes her way outside to find the others.

The sky is overcast, they'd been forecasting rain and it looks like they were right, she stares out at the thunderhead in the distance and sighs.

Someone whistles.

Madge looks over and sees the other three standing by a little pond. There are a few ducks in it and Madge imagines Gale and Katniss are discussing just how easy it would be to kill the poor things with their soon to be newly strung bows.

Still dragging her feet, Madge slowly makes her way to them.

"Having some gastrointestinal issues?" Peeta asks, grinning.

Madge holds up her sour worms. "Nope. Just doing some hunting of my own."

"Those are disgusting," Katniss cringes.

_This from the girl who has admitted to eating squirrel, and liking it._

Peeta shoots an odd look in Gale's direction, Madge doesn't quite like it. It's like the two of them have a secret.

Looking at his watch, to Gale, then over to Madge, Peeta grimaces slightly, sensing the tension. He clears his throat, "We need to get going or the movie might sell out."

He pulls her into a hug and whispers in her ear, "You two going to make it?"

They'll be fine. It won't be the first silent ride she's had in her life, and silence with Gale is better than talking.

She smiles, "Yeah. Enjoy your date."

He doesn't look entirely satisfied, but Katniss punches him in the back, tells him to move it, so he gives her one last smile of encouragement before being dragged off.

Gale has his hands in his pockets, is staring at the ground at his feet, before his head jerks in the direction of the parking lot. "Well, come on."

Madge trails a few feet behind him, slowing down everytime he decreases his pace.

Finally, when they've both nearly stopped, he turns and looks at her.

"Uh, so, it was pointed out to me that you might've been a little offended that I said, that I, you know, implied you wanted, or, um, started the thing with Cato back there."

So he'd talked to Peeta. Not that Gale isn't smart, she's certain he's reasonably clever, he even seems to be good with people. Most of the time. Just not her. Peeta though, he's a genius with people, reads them like books. He could rule the world with his silver tongue, if he wanted to. Gale must've asked what he'd done so terribly wrong.

"I know you wouldn't start something with him." He begins rubbing his neck, a nervous habit she'd noticed he had. "He's an asshole. Always hit on Katniss until she put him in his place."

She crosses her arms, "I appreciate the help." She presses her lips into a thin line, "But I'm just as capable as Katniss at putting people 'in their place'."

His face settles into a scowl, "I know."

He doesn't though.

She may not be Katniss, tough as nails and full of venom, but she isn't some damsel in distress. Cato was just one more jerk she'd tell off, or would have, if Gale hadn't decided to ride up and help her out.

"You just…" He bites his lip, doesn't seem to have the words for what she is. "I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean-you're too good for him and he gets under my skin and I just got…"

Madge doesn't really understand why he's apologizing. On the best of days he only seems to tolerate her. This slight should just roll off his back. It should…

He always _does_ apologize, though, when he upsets her. It's endlessly confusing.

Gale Hawthorne is an enigma. One she doesn't foresee sorting out anytime soon.

The back of her mind prickles, she knows there's something she's missing, but she just can't see it yet.

"It's…fine, Gale." She rubs her hands on her arms, it's getting cooler. The rain is probably coming in.

He nods, not looking entirely happy with the acceptance, but turns to start back to his truck anyway.

The paint is peeling, it's rusty but reliable looking, just as it had been in high school.

"I'm fixing up another," he tells her. "Won't have to drive this one much longer." He opens the driver side door and gestures to it. "Get in on this side. The passenger door is catching."

Madge crawls in, scoots as far from the driver's seat as she can. Gale jumps in, reaches behind the seat and pulls out a blanket.

"Here," he holds it out to her.

She eyes it suspiciously, questioning its cleanliness in her mind.

"It's clean," he seems to read her mind. "Just…take it."

She does, spreads it on her legs and pulls it up to her middle, hiding her hands under it. A whiff of detergent floats up to her, fresh smelling, he must not have been lying about it being clean.

Gale turns on the radio, something loud and angry comes on as he backs out of the parking spot and shifts the truck into drive.

The not talking is almost pleasant, Gale taps a steady rhythm on the gear shift and Madge taps her foot. The song isn't bad really.

Looking down she sees his purchase in the floorboard, the bow string, for when he goes hunting…

"Gale?" She's still curious. "How _do_ you use that fox urine?"

He groans.


	4. 24 Hour Shopping

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**24 Hour Shopping**

It's probably a rule that college age girls should avoid supermarkets after a certain hour. Madge is certain of it the moment she steps foot into the discount Supercalifragilisticexpi-all-you-never-knew-you-wanted-and-more store.

Even Katniss looks a little frightened by the clientele creeping around the aisles.

"He ain't right," she mutters as they pass a man dressed in several layers of mismatched clothing, having a very serious discussion with a display of toasters.

"At least he's covered up," Madge gestures to another man in what looks to be the world's thinnest wife-beater, dubbing him the 'World's Greatest Lover' across the back, and a pair of cut-offs so short she's pretty sure parts of his anatomy are falling out.

Katniss, who has some exceptional aversion to nudity, cringes, "I'll get the 7-up. You get the medicine."

She takes off, in the opposite direction of the never-nude, toward the grocery section of the store.

Madge sighs and takes a left, past the line of shady looking people waiting to fill their prescriptions, then down past the acid reflux medications and supplements.

She picks up several boxes, reads through the list of ailments before calling Peeta.

"So do you have a headache, sore throat, nasal congestion, and cough, or headache, fever, stuffy nose, sinus pressure, and chest congestion?"

"I don't know," he grumbles, barely audible over the phone. "I think I'm dying."

He was so dramatic. "I'll get both, then you can overdose yourself on Tylenol."

"Sounds great."

He must drop the phone, it echoes harshly in her ear. She sighs and hangs up.

She tosses the medicine in her basket, and begins to push off, go find Katniss and help her fend off the gross half-dressed people, but when she takes the corner she hits something. Another basket.

"Oh, god, I'm sor-"

Her apology dies on her lips when she recognizes the driver of the other cart.

The pushy jerk from the sporting goods store. Great.

He smirks at her, his cold eyes flicker up and down, take in her sloppy pony tail, paint stained t-shirt, and ragged running shorts.

"Well if it isn't Hawthorne's sloppy seconds," he sneers. "You dropped that loser yet?"

Before she can stop herself she snaps, "No."

Cato, she thinks that was his name, laughs.

"Oh really? He lets a pretty little thing like you go out this late without anyone to watch your back?"

She isn't sure if he's threatening her, maybe he is, but he's in for a surprise if he tries anything, she has a little can of mace with his name written all over it in her purse. Madge would enjoy watching him dissolve into a sobbing mess if he so much as looked like he was going to touch her.

"I don't need permission. Or back up."

That was partly a lie. She hated going shopping alone, for this very reason. Jerks who didn't take 'no' for an answer.

"Hmm," he pushes forward, leans on his handles, grins at the sparse contents of her basket. "The master hunter got a little cold?"

Madge thinks about hitting him with her basket again, harder this time, but decides he's probably the kind of guy that likes that kind of thing.

"Get out of my way." She has a sick and pathetic Peeta to get back to and Katniss is probably dodging the cut-offs guy in the frozen food section by now.

His mouth turns up, "In a hurry? Or are you just programmed to go through things quick? I heard Hawthorne is a little fast on the draw."

She did not need that information, true or not.

"Gale has a lot more endurance than you do, trust me."

What did she just say and why?

"Oh?" Cato arches his eyebrows up, "Want to test out that theory?"

_No, I don't, thank you very much._

"You would just embarrass yourself."

A deep laugh comes from behind her, a very familiar laugh…

Gale's hand slides around her waist, pulls her to him, her back colliding with his chest.

Why he's here she isn't sure, she'd been hoping to win this battle herself, but since Cato seems to think she's only some kind of prize and not an actual human being, she supposes Gale's help is useful.

His forearm wraps around her waist, presses into her stomach, as he leans down and rests his chin on her shoulder. Hot breath hits her neck as he nuzzles into it, she can feel his lips moving against her skin even though she has no idea what he's saying. Her mind is too foggy with his proximity.

"I said," Gale lifts his head from her shoulder, puts his lips to her ear, "Is this asshole bothering you again?"

A shiver runs up her spine, he has to feel it, he has her so closely pressed to his body.

"No," she almost whispers, though why she's whispering she isn't sure.

He presses his mouth to her collarbone, she feels his teeth scrap against her skin and nearly gasps.

They are in the middle of a supercenter for pity's sake!

She lets a nervous little giggle bubble out as she looks around, praying none of the weird old ladies that had been waiting on their medication had come around and seen the little display. They'd definitely need something for their heart rates and blood pressures if they had.

"Gale," she chastises him through gritted teeth. "We should get going."

Cato snorts, "Yeah, Hawthorne, wouldn't want you to waste your sixty seconds in the store. Poor girl will have to do all the work herself."

Madge gives him a scandalized look.

"Just because you can't bring your A-game everytime doesn't mean we all can't." Gale's hand drops a fraction, down to Madge's hip, gives it a squeeze. "Madge always leaves satisfied." He grins at Cato, "We're just in a hurry because we hit a little snag."

He reaches past her, snatches a box from the shelf. It takes her a second to realize what he's grabbed. Her mouth drops slightly when it hits her.

Gale's hand, the one not kneading into her hip, reaches up and closes her mouth, "Not yet, honey."

_Did he just…_

It takes every ounce of self-control she possesses not to elbow him in the ribs.

Cato sneers, "Yeah right. If she were going down on you I'd be able to see the evidence. Sores from someone with your level of infectiousness can't be easy to hide."

Madge feels her face burn on Gale's behalf.

Gale chuckles, "Whatever helps you sleep better at night, limp dick."

Cato laughs, hits Madge's basket with his one final time before disappearing towards the deodorant aisle.

Despite the fact that the menace is gone, Gale still has his arm wrapped around her, his fingers are still digging into her hip. She can smell his dinner on his breath with each puff he exhales. He's a little damp, smells faintly of sweat, maybe he'd just come from the gym on campus.

"You can let me go now." He was making her a little…uncomfortable.

He looks down, apparently hadn't realized he was still groping at her, and lets go, jumping back.

"Sorry."

"S'okay."

Madge can still feel her cheeks burning, presses her cold hands to them. Gale is in a pair of baggy gym shorts, a slightly baggy shirt with a 'v' of fading sweat down the front, from his neck down to his stomach. He had just come from the gym.

He looks a little darker than usual, she would almost swear he's blushing. He takes a breath, "He's lying, you know."

Madge isn't sure what he's talking about, she's a little preoccupied with her still stupidly racing heart. She wrinkles her nose, "What?"

"About, uh, sores." He is definitely blushing. "I don't have anything."

Why it's important to him that she know that, she isn't sure, but nods anyway, "Okay."

"I'm really careful-"

She doesn't care. Gale's sex life isn't something she wants any knowledge of. Not in the past, present, or future.

"I always use protection-"

He really needs to stop. There are elderly women shuffling around in the vicinity, though at this time of night they're probably crazy so it may not matter what they hear.

"I've never had anything-"

It makes not one lick of difference to her.

"I promise."

"Gale!" Madge groans, throws her hands up to stop any further confessions. "What you do with your 'best friend' is really not any of my business. I don't care if he's the cleanest, uh, you know, thingy in the country or the dirtiest."

He scowls, "I just didn't want you to think I was some kind of, I dunno, cesspool."

"I don't think you're a cesspool, Gale."

With his supposed list of conquests it's hard to believe he _hasn't_ contracted something, but, again, it doesn't matter to her.

"And I _do_ have stamina," he crosses his arms over his chest.

Can he just stop? He's giving her a lot of unnecessary information. _Interesting_, but wholly unnecessary.

She covers her face with her hands, presses her fingers to her eyes for a second, before letting them drop to her sides. They need a new topic of conversation. Fast. "Why are you here?"

He shrugs, pulls a coupon from his pocket, "Needed toilet paper."

Strange time to be buying that, but when the need arises, Madge supposes, the need arises.

Reaching into her basket, he tosses up one of Peeta's medicines, catches and examines it, then eyes her warily, "Someone sick?"

"Peeta, caught some flu bug we think." She backs her basket out of the aisle and takes off toward the grocery side, Gale striding beside her. "Katniss and I are picking up a few necessities for him."

She cuts him a look, wondering why he hasn't abandoned her yet, he'd done his chivalrous duty, rescued her from that jerk, he could go now.

His eyebrow knit together in a stern look, "Be more careful coming out this late at night, there are a lot of creeps out."

Madge wrinkles her nose, "I'm a big girl, and like I said, Katniss is with me."

Even if he thinks Madge is helpless, he certainly thinks much more highly of Katniss' abilities. Maybe she should show him her pepper spray…

"She isn't with you right now," he squints into the distance, past the toaster whisperer, searching for her missing roommate. "Do you know what happens to pretty girls that go out shopping at this time of night and wander off?"

She is very aware. She's an avid 'Dateline' watcher, thank you very much. But Peeta is 'dying' and she and Katniss don't want to catch whatever deadly illness he has apparently contracted. They needed disinfectant sprays and wipes before they were contaminated.

"Gale, I kno-" _Wait_. She stops and turns to him, narrows her eyes at him. "You think I'm pretty?"

His eyes widen just a fraction, then he settles back into a narrow scowl, "I meant Katniss."

"No, you said 'girls', plural, you meant both of us."

That's kind of a compliment. He kind of complimented her.

Gale seems to debate with himself, has an annoyed little curve on his lip, then sighs, "Fine." He lets his eyes flicker over to her, "I wouldn't kick you out of bed, alright?"

Madge snorts. She's pretty sure he's never kicked any girl out of his bed. Besides, it isn't as if she'd ever be in his bed in the first place.

When she's a half step from turning down the main aisle by the produce, Katniss appears out from behind a banana display. She gestures behind her with her thumb, "I think the weirdo in the cut-offs is following me."

"I don't think that's the same one," Madge squints into the distance. No, definitely a different one.

Katniss scowls, "How many creeps with their balls hanging out can there be?"

A lot apparently.

"What are you doing here, Gale?"

He holds up his coupon and Katniss nods. Her eyes flicker to the basket and she groans. Her hand reaches in and grabs the box Gale had thrown in earlier.

"Seriously? What is Peeta thinking?" She shoots Madge a look, "And I would think you would have more sense than to listen to him. He's just going to have to wait until he's better."

She puts the box, her two liter of 7-up, Clorox wipes, and a can of Lysol in the basket before grabbing it from Madge and taking off for the front of the store, grumbling about her sick, horny boyfriend.

Madge knows she should correct her, but since Peeta will probably be hopped up on cold medicine and won't remember if he asked her for anything weird or not, she decides to let it run its course. Watching Katniss ream him out while he giggled at the word 'condom' in his drugged up state would be worth it.

She turns to Gale, gestures to Katniss, "Guess I should follow my ride."

His face scrunches up and he nods, glancing back over his shoulder, "Do you need me to walk you out?"

"I got it covered," she opens her purse, pulls the pepper spray out. "Anyone tries anything and they're going down for the count."

He eyes the little red canister attached to her keychain, "Alright there 'Self-Defense Barbie', but maybe you should practice holding it the right way."

Her face warms. She'd bought it with the hope of never having to use it, so she had never actually looked at how she was supposed to handle it.

Gale takes the keychain from her and turns it before roughly shoving it back in her hand, "God, you'll end up blind."

Madge stuffs her spray back in her purse, feeling a little hurt. She was trying to be proactive. "You don't have to be such a jerk about it."

"When it's your life on the line…" He looks physically pained by her stupidity, "Okay, just look at shit before you use it. I don't want to hear about you on the news."

That's actually bordering on sweet. She gives him a tight smile, "Fine, I will."

"Good." He points to the front, to where Katniss is finishing checking out, "Catch up with her. You don't need to walk out by yourself."

_Fine._

Feeling more than a little put out, Madge runs to the register and trails after the still grumbling Katniss.

She isn't certain, but she feels someone watching them as they walk out, put the sacks in the car, and get in. When they pull out she's positive she sees a gym shorts wearing stalker just inside the sliding doors.

"We are never shopping this late again," Katniss mutters as one of the cut-off posse sluggishly crosses in front of her.

Madge nods, "Definitely not."


	5. Down for the Count

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down for the Count**

It was all their neighbor and Madge's self-defense instructor, Annie Cresta's fault. She provided the means and opportunity.

She'd giving them tickets to the newest club in town. Well, it was less of a club and more of a bar.

No…it was a bar. A poorly lit, hot, smelly, absolutely filthy, bar down a narrow back alley at the edge of campus. It had a bouncer, a frightening woman with pointed teeth and all black leather clothing, a VIP line, private rooms, and the most obnoxious strobe lights Madge had ever encountered.

_I'm going to regret this._

"I could be writing my paper for my non-western civ class," Madge grumbled. She was finished with it, actually, but she hated the crowds and the closeness, the flashing lights and the heavy, opaqueness of the air. It was making her claustrophobic.

Gale came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, let his chin press into her neck before whispering, "Bullshit."

She deflated a little. Of course he would remember she was done with her work.

"Fine, I just don't like the band." Which was a bit of a lie. They weren't bad. Local and a little unusual, but good. It was the atmosphere she didn't like. She would've rather been back on one of their couches, curled into him, watching some dumb movie, without all the drunks and half-dressed idiots running around, spilling drinks on her and invading her space.

Gale took a long drink of his beer and Madge cringed as a drop leaked out the side of his mouth. He quickly wiped it, gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry."

Frowning, she spun on her barstool, let the room twirl around her. Annie was there with her husband, Finnick, a DJ on a local radio station, the source of the tickets. He was always getting invites to new and interesting places. They were disgustingly cute, hugging and kissing in a dark corner.

Then she saw Katniss and Peeta up near the stage. Peeta was dancing, Katniss had her hands over her face in embarrassment.

"Is Mellark doing the cabbage patch?"

He was. It was glorious.

"I think he's doing a mix," Madge stopped her seat and grinned as Peeta began his own rendition of the running man.

"What does Katniss see in him?"

Peeta went into Hammer Time.

Gale lost it, snorted into his beer and sloshed a healthy portion of it, past Madge, onto the already sticky floor.

"Watch where you're throwing that, jackass!"

It was Glamour, or was it Glitter? Madge couldn't remember.

"Sorry," Gale grinned, a little drunkenly.

Madge gave Glinda, no that wasn't right, that was too normal, a small smile, "He really is sorry." She took the beer from Gale's hand, "I think you've had enough."

He dipped in, let his hands slip into the back pockets of her jeans, as he kissed her neck, "I'm sorry."

He probably didn't even know what he'd done, he had the memory of a goldfish when he was even a little drunk.

"This jerk-off messing with you, Glimmer?"

_Glimmer!_ How did Madge keep forgetting that name?

Turning, she saw a person whose name she didn't have any trouble remembering.

"Oh, well if it isn't the master hunter and his sloppy second," Cato snickered.

Madge was about to tell him she thought he had a misunderstanding of what his nickname for her meant, but was stopped short by Gale making a threatening noise and pulling her from her stool. She almost lost her footing, but landed face first into Gale's chest instead. "Ow."

Cato made a harsh noise, sneered at them. "Don't worry, shit for brains, I wouldn't go after her. No telling what she's picked up sleeping with your crab trap."

Glimmer let out a loud, very unladylike laugh, it lasted a little too long, was a little too high.

Gale rolled his eyes, "My date is smart enough to notice that crap. Can you say the same about yours?"

That cut off Glimmer's annoying laugh. She raised her hand, as if to slap Gale, but stopped short when Cato caught her arm.

"Don't waste your energy, Glim," he let his hand drop, smirked at Gale. "He's just a charity case. Grew up in a shack in the middle of the woods. Probably didn't learn to piss in a pot until he came here. Hell, probably had to take a special class just to learn about how to use indoor plumbing. They just let him in to meet some loser quota, you know? Probably why she's dating him, too. Feels bad for him."

Gale's face, even in the horrible lighting of the bar, went darker. Glimmer's annoying laugh came back.

Madge saw red.

It was one thing to doubt Madge, she was use to that. Her intentions were always under the microscope since she'd grown up better off than most of her classmates. It didn't bother her anymore really.

But picking on _Gale_ for something like that, how he'd grown up. That was beyond what she could tolerate.

"Gale got into school on his brains, which is more than I can assume about either of you MENSA candidates." She jabbed a finger into Cato's chest, "If the worst thing you can say about him is that he's pulled himself up by his bootstraps, then you need to reassess your thought system because that's not a bad thing."

Madge turned, a little shocked at her own boldness, and grabbed a now gaping Gale by the arm. They were leaving, she'd had enough social interaction for the month, maybe the year.

"Woah there, Mad Dog," Cato called from behind her. "His super syphilis already eaten your brain?"

Gale made a noise, his nostrils flared as he turned with his fist already up, ready to hit the waste of air, but Madge's foot beat him to it.

It was one of the target areas Annie had taught them during the self defense class Madge had taken, months ago, after Gale had pointed out she didn't really know how to use her mace. She didn't think she'd ever have to use it, but a lifetime of real life crime dramas and Law & Order reruns had made her paranoid enough that when her bubbly neighbor had offered, Madge had taken her up.

This wasn't quite self-defense, not by a long shot, but Cato definitely deserved it.

Cato's knees bent and his hands cupped the very sensitive area of his anatomy Madge's Sperry clad foot had just kicked.

Seeing the opportunity, Madge took a swing, hit his nose, causing it to erupt with blood as he toppled over onto the beer covered floor.

Glimmer let out a high pitched wail and threw her hands dramatically to her face.

Katniss was watching, wide eyed from below the stage, and Peeta, arm still up, mid sprinkler, was gaping at the scene.

Annie, who had crawled up on the bar, had her fist in the air, then brought her elbow down violently and yelled, "Give him the 'People's Elbow', Mad!"

Madge, her mouth dropped in horror at what she'd just done, was _not_ giving Cato the 'People's Elbow', whatever that was, or any kind of elbow for that matter.

Gale grabbed her by the hand and began dragging her out.

"We should run before security catches us," he tells her as he half carries her through the gaping onlookers.

They manage to make it past the leather clad bouncer, wiggled out the exit and to the alley, then down past the dumpsters to the street.

Gale still had a death grip on her hand, her fingers began going numb, as he drug her down the road, toward the non-VIP parking lot for the club, which was unfortunately located two blocks away.

Madge took a deep breath, enjoying the much cooler, much fresher air outside the club. Then the horrible realization of what she'd done hit her.

She'd beat up a guy! Not that he didn't kind of deserve it, but still.

The air suddenly didn't feel so refreshing.

When her feet shuffled to a stop and she pulled her now clammy hand from Gale's, he turned back to her.

"Madge we need to get to the car."

She put her hands to her knees, dropped her head down to catch some air. This was a disaster. Why had she let Cato bait her like that? Why hadn't she just walked away?

"Oh, god, I shouldn't've kicked him, and I definitely didn't need to hit him." She was going to be in so much trouble. He hadn't been hurting her or Gale physically, just being his obnoxious self, she had no defense for what she'd done.

"Madge? Are you okay?" Gale dropped down, crouching in front of her. His warm hands cupped her face, thumbs traced under her eyes, smearing something across her cheeks. "Don't cry over that jerk."

She shook her head, tried to bat away a few of the tears that squeezed out.

"He deserved it," Gale pulled her up, tugged her into a hug. It was hard to argue with him, partly because he sounded so certain, but mostly because he had her face pressed into his chest. He still had the scent of beer and the sickly sweet smell from the fog machine from the club clinging to him, and she could feel traces of his sweat prickling through his shirt, pressing to her lips and tingeing them with a salty taste.

"That was pretty badass, you know?" He pulled back, grinned down at her.

It wasn't, at least not in Madge's mind.

"I beat up a defenseless man, Gale. That's not badass, that's battery." She was a criminal. In her mind a Lennie Briscoe type detective was already examining the scene of the crime, letting forensics gather evidence, questioning the dozens of witnesses, making silly one-liners. Some Jack McCoy like figure was going to throw the book at her. "What's the maximum prison time allotted for beating up a guy in a bar?"

"Cato is hardly defenseless. He's an asshole. I doubt this is the first time he's had his nuts knocked in and I doubt it'll be the last." Gale rolled his eyes, "And they aren't going to send you to jail for a bar fight. We got out of there before the cops showed up, if the club even wants them there for a one sided brawl, and they aren't going to waste their time hunting you down. They have better things to do. Trust me, do you know how many bars Thom and me have had to run from?"

She didn't, and that was probably for the best. If there was one thing about she and Gale's relationship she was proudest of it was that he had calmed down some, wasn't_quite_ as hot headed, and she liked to think she might've had something to do with that.

"Cato is the kind of jerk that'll hunt me down himself and press charges."

"Cato is the kind of jerk that'll protect his pride," Gale corrected her. "He'll probably make you sound like some kind of hairy giant. He won't hunt you down or press charges because he won't want his friends to see who really knocked him on his ass."

Her stomach still churned uncomfortably, "How do you know?"

Gale shrugged, "'Cause if you kicked my ass like you did his, that's what I would do."

That gets her to laugh. A little bubbly, watery sounding thing, but it's still a laugh.

Someone pulled up, honked their horn at them.

"Get a room!" Peeta laughed. He was just barely visible in the backseat of the car,. His face was pressed to the headrest just to look out at them.

It's was a very expensive, very well kept, and incredibly fast looking car. It was also familiar for some reason.

Annie leaned across the passenger, a somewhat tired looking Finnick, and grinned at the two. They must've been in VIP parking back at the club.

"Madge, that was a thing of beauty."

Madge grimaced, "I shouldn't have hit him. He was all talk."

"Who cares!" Annie laughed, "If he said something bad enough to make you kick his balls into the next District, then he definitely deserved it."

"I will never make fun of those self-defense classes ever again," Katniss tells her, squeezing her head between the front seats to peer out the window.

"Hey, I may _take_ those self-defense classes," Peeta says, looking at a highly pleased Annie.

Finnick gives her a little grin, "But you can never go back to that club. Enobaria has a pretty good set of eyes. She'll rip out your throat if she sees you get too close to her door ever again."

That was the first bright spot Madge had sensed in the whole disaster of a night. At least now she was guaranteed to not to have to go back to that hellhole.

"Get in!" Peeta gestured wildly, "It's the unicorn, Madge!"

That was why it looked familiar! The chase scene in 'Gone in 60 Seconds' was their favorite.

"It's 'Eleanor'!"

Peeta beamed at her, nodding. Neither she nor Peeta knew cars, but they knew 'Eleanor'.

Madge saw Katniss shoot Gale a confused look. They just didn't know movies like Peeta and Madge.

"Just like in the original," Peeta nodded.

"Where did you get it, Annie?" This wasn't just any car.

"It's mine," Annie ran her hand over the dash. "I just keep it in storage mostly. Not very practical with the baby."

Gale rolled his eyes at Madge and Peeta's continued admiring of the car, "Okay, well where in 'Eleanor' are we supposed to sit?"

"Unless you're afraid your girlfriend's bloodlust hasn't been sated, then just let her sit on your lap. It's only for a block," Finnick gestured to the already cramped looking back seat.

Gale eyed the car suspiciously then the driver. Annie was a notoriously bad driver, even when she was in her normal clunker.

He was probably remembering Madge telling him riding with Annie was a religious experience. If you didn't find yourself praying to a higher power with her behind the wheel, you never would.

He grabbed Madge's hand, "Why don't we just walk? It's nice out."

Madge looked up and down the road, still expecting the District's finest to be coming for her, but no blue and red flashing lights were coming down the road.

"Come on, while you're still a free woman," he teased, his lips brushing up against her ear.

She punched him in the shoulder and glared, "Don't mess with me. I've proven I'm a danger to society."

"Suit yourself," Finnick shrugged.

"Punch it, Annie!" Peeta yelled from the back seat.

"Don't," Katniss warned. "It's only a block. I would like to survive, please."

Annie seemed to like Peeta's idea better, because she pealed out, leaving a little of the rubber from her tires on the pavement.

Gale wrapped his arm around Madge's shoulder, began sauntering the block to the parking lot.

"So," he grinned down at her, "if we get attacked you're going to protect lil ole me, right?"

Madge snorted, "Of course, no one's messing with you while I'm around."

Gale laughed, she could feel it vibrate through his chest.

"Good." He dipped in and pressed a kiss to her lips, "So what does my hero want for her reward?"

Sighing, Madge bit her lip, "Ice cream?" She jutted her lip out; she could really use some Cherry Garcia right about now.

Gale smirked, "I think I have something better."

"I don't think there is anything you have that's better than ice cream."

He looked a little offended, "Really?" His hands began to work their way under the hem of her shirt, "You _really_think that?"

Madge fought off a laugh, his fingers tickled at her sides. "Maybe…"

"Maybe?" He heaved her up, one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. "I'll get you some stupid ice cream, but then I'm gonna _prove_ I'm better than it."

Madge battled a smile, "Oh, really?"

Maybe she didn't regret the night all that much.

But if Madge ended up doing five years in the slammer for battery, then it was Annie's fault.


	6. Coffee Break

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Coffee Break**

Madge is wearing a tank top. She keeps shivering.

Gale squints in the poor lighting of the library, through the racks, over to her table. He can only see her back, her hair is loose and scattered, tangled where she's constantly running her hands through it in frustration over whatever it is she's reading. The shirt is blue, dark, but her bra underneath, which he hadn't been looking for but couldn't help but notice, was pale peach, and kept dropping down her shoulder on the right. Everytime she reaches over and pushes it up he finds himself wishing he could do it for her.

Swallowing down some coffee, black, no sugar, no creamer, he saunters over to the table. She doesn't notice him behind her, she's too engrossed in her reading, something for her history class by the looks of it, so he leans over and blows gently just behind her ear.

It startles her, she jumps a little, turning and glaring back at him.

Her nose wrinkles for a second, considering him, before turning back to her book, "What do you want, Gale?"

Dropping into the seat next to her, the side with the loose bra strap, he lets one arm rest in front of her, blocking her book, while the other wraps around the back of her chair. His fingers can just tease the loose ends of her hair without her noticing it.

"It's freezing in here, isn't it?"

He makes sure that his warm breath brushes across her shoulders, stirs up her hair, as he whispers. Goosebumps are already on her arms, tantalizingly within his reach.

Madge studiously ignores him, pushes his arm off her book. Her hands are freezing.

"You're an icicle!" Why isn't she wearing a coat, or maybe some gloves…

She shrugs, continues with her note taking, turning her head from him.

Scowling, Gale covers her papers with his hands. Wrinkling her nose, she tries again to free her notes, but he snatches them away, pulls them to himself.

"Wha-give those back!" She snaps, her icy hands grabbing towards the papers.

His free hand catches her wrists, pull them to his chest and causing her to tumble forward. With a little growl, she pushes him back, his chair makes a loud screeching noise when she does so, earning them a glare from a boy several table over.

Madge gives him a weak, conciliatory smile, before turning back to Gale and holding out her hand, "Give me my notes."

Gale hides the papers behind his back, "You need to get warmed up."

Her eyes roll upward, toward the crappy lights overhead, "Fine, I'll study outside."

_Was she nuts?_ It was hot as hell out there, she'd have a heatstroke.

"Just come get some coffee." She could wrap her hands around the cup and maybe get some circulation back in her fingers.

Shaking her head and huffing, she makes another grab for her notes, her freezing fingers wrapping around his bicep and trying to pull his arm from behind his back. When it becomes abundantly clear she won't get him to budge, she narrows her eyes and her lower lip puckers out. "Fine."

######################################

It takes ten minutes to get her out of the library, she keeps trying to sneak into his backpack and free her very neatly written notes, but when he threatens to stuff them down the front of his pants she pouts, but stops.

Gale pays for her drink, something stupid and frou-frou that he's almost embarrassed to give money for, but when she takes her first drink, gets a little dollop of cream on her nose, he decides it's worth it.

She gives him a haughty look, "It's called a Belgian dip."

When Gale's expression flickers in confusion she smiles brightly. Then she starts laughing, muttering something that sounds like 'Peeta would've got it'.

_That_ annoys him. It's one of she and Peeta's movie things. Even though he knows she and Katniss' dopey boyfriend are just friends, he still hates that they have some kind of weird bond.

"It's 'Austin Powers'," he says. Everyone and their dog has seen that movie.

Her smile fades a little at his tone and she starts to wipe the foam from the tip of her nose. Before she gets the napkin up, though, Gale reaches across the table with his own napkin and cleans it for her. Her expression freezes for a second, like she isn't sure what she's supposed to say, so Gale tosses the napkin at her. "God, you're messy."

Mouth turning down, she puckers her lip again, "I was getting it myself."

He knew that, he just really wanted to touch her, even if it was through the barrier of a napkin. His hand still tingles where he'd held her wrists, and his chest, in the center where she'd shoved him, burned warmly.

Shrugging, Gale takes a long drink from his cup of black coffee.

They drink in silence for a few minutes. Gale stares as Madge looks out the window, watching students milling by, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Her lips purse, press together and part, pale blue eyes flicker as they follow different people.

Gale wishes he were better at small talk. He wants to ask her how her first semester is going, if she likes her classes, her professors, made any new friends, though hopefully no boys…

"Do, uh, you and Katniss like those apartments?"

He doesn't, not really. They're not safe, at least not in his mind. Katniss tells him Mellark stays over a lot, but, honestly, that doesn't offer him much comfort. Katniss is more capable of protecting them than that dork. But…he didn't like the dorms either. They were too unsecured for his liking. All those hormonal bastards in too close quarters to Madge made him queasy.

"Okay I guess."

When Madge is almost done with her drink, he pulls the notes out of his backpack, tosses them across the table to her.

He catches her fingers when she reaches for them, assuring himself their warm.

She jerks back, wide eyed, fingers just barely pulling the papers to her.

Gale gives her a little smirk, tries to catch her fingers again, but she pulls them and her papers to her chest.

A little sigh escapes her lips, "I, uh, gotta get back to the library." She pushes some of her hair behind her ear, "I have more reading to do."

As she stands, grabs her bag and keeps her notes close to her, Gale pulls a jacket from his bag. He hands it to her, "Don't undo all my work."

Madge's eyebrows knit together, not really understanding what he means, so he gives the jacket a shake.

"I paid good money for that dumbass drink of yours. You go back in that icebox and turn into a human popsicle then what good was it."

None. That's what good it will have done.

She makes a face, but takes the jacket, lays it over her arm, "I'll have Katniss give it back to you."

It takes a great deal of effort for him to not tell her to keep it. He likes the idea of a piece of him being with her, a bit of protection when she's alone.

Instead, he just grunts.

She wouldn't appreciate his protectiveness, especially considering she thinks he's a grade-A jerk.

He _is_ a grade-A jerk to her most of the time, because he needs to be.

Madge is too good for him, smart and sweet and painfully naïve. He doesn't deserve to be her protector, no matter how much he wants the job. She deserves someone so much better.

Her nose wrinkles, he loves it when she makes that face, and she lets a little puff of air out, "Ugh, to you too." She takes a few steps, "Thanks for warming me up." Her face turns a lovely shade of red, "I meant-I mean, thanks for making me warm. I mean for the coffee that made me warm-"

Gale's never seen anyone's cheeks blaze as brilliantly red as Madge's at that moment, never seen anyone as adorably flustered.

Her words stumble over themselves for a few more seconds, she can't seem to get her tongue and lips to function to her liking, before finally sighing and shaking her head.

"Thanks for the coffee."

He considers needling her, keeping the slowly fading blush from disappearing from her face, but decides against it. They're in college now, he's doing well in his classes, far better than he had in high school, he might get on his feet eventually. He might be good enough for her someday.

With a final grunt he watches her go, his jacket slung over her arm.

A small smirk twitches on his lips when he notices her bra strap has slipped down again and she's stealthily trying to push it up. Maybe someday he'll get his chance to push it up himself.


	7. Lunch Date

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Lunch Date**

Madge felt she may have made a grave mistake taking a seven-thirty am class during the summer.

What was done was done, though, and she was already a week in, so there was no point in dropping now.

At least she didn't have to do an entire semester of it during the fall. A lighter class load was nothing short of a godsend, especially considering she'd put off her math requirement the last two semester. She would definitely need a little extra time for a calculus course.

It's also a good thing her amazing boyfriend is so good with his fancy calculator. Gale is definitely going to be helpful come fall.

The Microbiology professor, a thin woman who seemed to enjoy interspersing her slides with pictures of her children and dog, finally closed out the lesson, smiling brightly at them.

"I'll see everyone in an hour for lab!"

She would not. Madge had yet to see her during lab. The only people that ever taught that were the three perpetually exhausted looking TAs. They would explain what the students were supposed to do, cut them loose, then check their work after an hour, give or take. If their work was even marginally passable, they got a pass for the day.

"None of you are majors," the head TA, the most bored of them all, explained. "This shouldn't make or break you."

As long as they made it through two months without releasing a biological apocalypse on the campus, passing grades for all. At least that's how Madge interpreted it.

Quickly, she gathered her notes, stuffed them in her folder and into her backpack, before rushing out the door. If she was quick she could get to the vending machine and get a highly nutritious, cheap, and portable breakfast item and a coke. Breakfast had been the furthest thing from her mind when she'd rolled out of bed that morning and her stomach was voicing its displeasure with that choice.

The moment she steps out the double doors, into the still early morning sun and the blissfully fresh air, she takes a deep breath.

Then someone comes up behind her, grabs her backpack and nearly makes her tumble backward.

Gale starts laughing, "God, you don't have to carry the entire library with you."

He has her back on her heels, tipped into him. She wrinkles her nose up at him, narrows her eyes.

"I don't. We have to bring our lab manual." And the stupid thing weighs as much as she does.

With a little push, he has her back on her feet, pulling her backpack from her shoulders. "Let me take it."

Her back is instantly grateful.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulls her to him, kissing the top of her hair. She's about to tip her face up, kiss his jaw, when he thrusts a bag into her hands.

"Brought you breakfast."

Smiling, she takes it, opening it to find a biscuit and a hashbrown. He pulls a bottle of orange juice out for her from under his arm.

"Yay! Sweaty!" She mock cheers as she takes it.

"Just the way you like it," he kisses her cheek. It's clearly been a few days since he's shaved, the little bristly whiskers on his chin scratch against her skin, leaving a patch of pink on her face. He frowns at it, rubs his hand across his jaw. "Sorry."

Madge shrugs, pulling the hash brown out and taking a large bite, "I's ow-kay."

Gale pushes her mouth shut, feigning disgust, "Were you raised in a barn?"

She nods, grinning.

They take a seat on one of the benches, in front of the building with Madge's lab. Gale pulls out some papers, something to do with his internship, and studies them while Madge polishes off the biscuit, offering Gale a bite or two.

"You need to eat," he scowls at her. "This business about not eating when you're in class is bullshit."

Madge frowns down at the hashbrown, "I was going to get something, but you brought this."

"A Snickers, Funyuns, and a Dr. Pepper, isn't a good breakfast."

She arches her eyebrows up, "I'll have you know I was going to get Cheetos and a Sprite."

And a Snickers.

His eyes roll so hard she's pretty sure he's going to get a headache from it. "You need to take a nutrition class. Help you make better dietary choices."

Her nose wrinkles up, "I make excellent dietary choices."

She'd had a footlong sub the night before for dinner, with banana peppers on it. That was both a vegetable and a fruit, she's pretty sure, thank you very much.

Gale's expression is skeptical. He's fully aware Madge is not exactly a culinary artist. If it takes half a pound of sugar and butter, she's got it. Can she call it in? Perfect. Anything threatening to be healthy is out of her skill set.

Taking the napkin the biscuit had been wrapped in, she waves it at his face. "Fine, I'll get something better for lunch."

Pizza encompassed several food groups. That ought to make Gale happy.

Grinning, he props his leg up against the back of the bench, pulls Madge to him, trapping her between his legs, "You bet you will." He nips at the skin below her ear, "I have an hour for lunch, I'm coming by and taking you somewhere that doesn't provide toys in kids' meals."

Madge tilts her head back, shoots him a glare, "I'll have you know, I've gained vast amounts of knowledge from my Sonic Smart Cubes."

Most practically useless, but vast none the less.

Eyes rolling skyward, Gale runs his hand along the edge of her shirt, his fingers skimming the skin underneath. His teeth graze along her neck, "I promise, you'll like it."

That wasn't playing fair. Not at all. How was she supposed to say no to that kind of argument?

It was going to be a mistake. Gale wasn't _quite_ as bad as Annie with her love of all things crunchy and refusal to eat anything that had been grown outside a day's drive, but Madge had seen him try Kale chips, so he was pushing it.

Sighing, she nods. She'll go to whatever horrible all-natural hole-in-the-wall he'd found. She was taking something heavily processed and sugary, though, to sustain her until she could get to her stash of poptarts at home.

He brightens, kisses her cheek, "You're going to love it.

She greatly doubts that.

#####################################

It wasn't as bad as she'd expected.

Madge had picked a chicken and avocado sandwich, it had been the only food combination she hadn't been wary of, and it wasn't bad.

"They grow almost everything local," Gale tells her. "And what they don't, they get from the closest markets."

It was also close enough to campus that Madge could walk there during lunch. _Hint, hint._

It would've been easier to dismiss it if it had been expensive, but Gale was nothing if not good at finding cheap eats. The prices were reasonable considering the kind of food they were providing, and they had a student discount.

_Damn._

"Fine, I'll come eat here some." Maybe once a week.

He doesn't look like he believes her exactly, his mouth turns down. Madge reaches over and wipes a bit of the sauce from his nasty looking fish sandwich from the corner of his mouth.

"Promise?"

"Yes." She pokes the weird orange looking fries, "I don't see what the big deal is. I grew up eating the way I eat. You're going to throw off my internal mechanisms if you keep trying to change my patterns." She juts her lower lip out, "Can't you just love me, bad eating habits and all?"

Gale presses his fingers to his eyes, lets out a long sigh. After a long moment, his hands drop, fixing Madge in a stern look.

"I _do_ love you. But I want you to be healthy, and eating like a teenage boy is bad for you." He sits back and crosses his arms.

_This from the guy who eats all kinds of unspeakable creatures._

"You're going to end up sick. Skipping meals and all that processed crap."

For a second Madge just stares at him, letting a little smile creep up her face. She may not like it, but Gale's insistence on making her eat gross, so-called healthy food was just one of his weird ways of showing affection. Even if it often felt like punishment.

"Aw," she reaches across the table, takes his warm, rough hand and pulls it toward her. "You're such a good boyfriend."

His face darkens a little and he pulls her hand to him, up to his lips, "I am, aren't I?" He kisses her knuckles, "Do I get some kind of reward for being such a good boyfriend?"

Lips twisting up to the side, Madge gives the question careful consideration.

"Well, I suppose if you get me a snowcone on the way home from work, even though it's not _really_ good for me…"

He snorts, rolls his eyes, "I think if I can get one non-fast food or vending machine based meal down you a day, I'll consider it a win."

"Strawberry shortcake?" That was her favorite flavor.

His feet catch hers under the table, give her a little jerk toward him, "Only if you share."

"Now you're pushing it."

They get to-go bags, Gale will probably eat the rest of her now cold sandwich for dinner tonight, then get up, toss some money on the table, and head out. Gale has to get back to work and Madge has homework.

"So about my reward," he laces his fingers with hers, tugging her back toward the main campus. "It's Friday, so how about a sleep-over?"

Madge narrows her eyes, "A 'sleep-over', huh?"

_Right._

Grin widening, Gale nods, "Yeah, no work in the morning or classes…"

Madge gets the distinct impression Gale has very little sleep planned in their 'sleep over'. Her nose wrinkles, "Are we going to build a fort in the living room? Make s'mores?"

His arm sneaks around her waist, "We can do _something_in the living room, and maybe make a kind of s'more."

Head tossing back, Madge laughs, "Subtle, Gale, really subtle."

Nose nuzzling into her hair, he kisses her. She can smell whatever horrible combination was on his sandwich on his breath when he laughs at her.

Gale, she decides, is definitely an amazing boyfriend. Even if he makes her eat weird foods and has a very poor understanding of what a sleep-over is.

A wide yawn escapes her mouth and she gives Gale a sheepish little smile.

Her seven-thirty class may give him an education in the true meaning of a sleep-over after all.


	8. Medieval On You

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Medieval On You**

Gale really doesn't understand the draw of the Medieval Fair. Neither does Katniss, and for some reason that baffles Madge and Peeta.

"This is right up your alley," Peeta waves out at the ridiculously dressed fair patrons. "They like archery, you like archery. They like to hang around for days on end, wallowing in their own filth, you guys like to hang around for days on end, wallowing in your own filth-"

"We go hunting," Gale corrects him, tersely. There was a big difference between hunting filth and the weirdos running around in front of them.

The idiot made it sound like Gale and Katniss enjoyed being dirty for dirtiness' sake. If he had a stealthy bone in his clumsy body he could go hunting with him and then he'd understand that it wasn't exactly convenient to bathe when you were tracking something at deer camp.

Madge patted Gale on the shoulder, "Maybe you and Katniss can sign up for the archery contest."

They couldn't. The roster had filled up two days earlier, they'd checked. Not that Gale would've wanted to sign up for the stupid thing anyway…

Peeta picks up a wooden sword, a cheap little thing for the kids to whack each other with, and pokes Gale in the side.

"Come on Gloomy Gale, it's fun!"

Gale swats the flimsy wood out of Peeta's hand.

Apparently seeing the danger of letting Peeta jab her boyfriend with tiny medieval replica toys, Madge takes Gale by the hand and pulls him along behind her.

The entire place stinks of fried food and animals. There are pony rides off in the far corner, and he can see jousters on horseback. The entire walking park is going to be covered in horse manure by the end of the weekend.

There's a living chess set, Madge wants to watch it, something about it reminding her of Harry Potter. He isn't sure what that means.

People are dressed as everything from the dirtiest, lowliest peasants to elaborately made up court members. Gale sees Madge watching them wistfully. Girls and their fantasies about the middle ages, don't they know it's also called the 'dark ages' for a reason? He's pretty sure it sucked for the vast majority.

He feels a little guilty thinking it, but Madge is too sweet, too soft, she wouldn't have lasted in the real middle ages.

Madge stops at a booth of women braiding hair, intricate looking creations with ribbon and flowers. She watches them for a minute before biting her lip and turning to Gale, "I'm going to get my hair done."

He likes her hair down, it's soft and it calms his nerves to toy with it, but she looks so excited that all he can do is shrug. Whatever makes her happy.

As Madge plops down on the little stool, telling the women what color ribbon she wants woven in her hair, Gale wanders over to a booth with a massive display of swords. Real swords, not wooden ones like Peeta had been screwing around with.

Gale lifts one, examines the hilt.

"Good morrow good sir! I see you've found my fine wares."

A grubby looking man dressed like he's just stepped out of some poor community project play comes up beside him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"You look to be a man of fiery resolve and steely nerves." He gestures to another rack, "Perchance you should like to look at a more sturdy sword?"

_More like more expensive._

Gale shakes his head, "No thanks."

The man doesn't back down though.

"So sure are you?" He picks up a heavy looking creation, balances it on his hand. "Look! See the craftsmanship!"

"Uh, yeah."

Gale knows nothing about swords other than what he'd learned watching Pirates of the Caribbean marathons with Madge, so whether or not the 'craftsmanship' is impressive or not he isn't sure.

"NO?" The man yells, spit flickering in Gale's face. He reaches for another sword. It's really beginning to get annoying.

"Look, mister, I don't want a sword." He doesn't need one either, especially not at those prices.

"Thou, young sir, be a grizzled, eye-offending pignut!"

"What?" Was that even a real insult?

Gale takes a step back, this guy has to be pretty drunk to already be sputtering out that kind of nonsense at ten in the morning. Plus they were surrounded by weapons. Gale had been in enough bar fights to know drunks with pointy objects were a bad combination.

Before the crazy sword peddler can really work himself up, spout off more logic-less insults, Madge comes up behind Gale and grabs him by the back of the shirt, pulling him from what is sure to be a fight. Though probably a short one. Gale had the advantages of being both young and sane.

"I can't let you out of my sight for five minutes can I?" Her nose wrinkles up as she looks up at him.

"I was just looking." It isn't his fault the people at the booths are pushier than that lotion guy at the kiosk in the mall.

He squints down at her, examines the delicate looking way the women have braided her hair. She takes his hand and does a little twirl, letting him get a better look, though honestly, in her fluttery little sundress, her hair is hardly the focus of his attention.

Still, her hair isn't bad, but he still prefers it down, or at least just in her normal ponytail.

"Let's go check out some other booths" Madge pulls him along.

##########################

Gale's never seen so many dragons. Not real dragons, but metal and wood, stuffed animals, in wind chimes and incense burners and lawn ornaments. Then there are what he assumes are fairies.

He isn't sure what the point of all of it is. He's never been much for fantasy. Reality has enough weirdness to keep him occupied, he doesn't need make-believe creatures taking up residence in his orderly world.

Madge puts a little crown on her head, examines herself in an overly ornate mirror. "Do you like it?"

Eyes widening, Gale looks her over. She might not have survived the dark ages, middle ages, medieval period, whatever the hell this stupid fair is supposed to be about, but she would've made one gorgeous princess.

His hands run up her sides, tug her against him, "Does it have a matching bra and panties?"

"I don't think I would want to wear any undergarments I could buy out here."

Turning and taking a look at the overweight man apparently running the booth, Gale suddenly feels inclined to agree. He lets her go, she's walks back to the crown display, so Gale begins examining some chainmail in the next booth over.

"See anything that interests you, good sir?"

_Not another one._

Didn't they know people liked to look without being hounded?

"Just looking," Gale quickly tells him. _Just leave me alone. Walk away._

Arms come up around him. If it's the man running the booth Gale's done with this place.

The hands are small, delicate with silver polish on the nails. Madge presses her face into his back, "Going to be a knight?"

Putting the chainmail down, Gale turns and scoops her up, carries her carefully out from under the little canopy. "I'm going to be your knight in shining armor."

Her nose wrinkles, "No, you would have the most filthy armor ever." Her eyes flicker over to a dragon statue, it's as tall as Gale is. "And if dragons were real, you'd have the most charred armor."

_Wow._ She sure thought highly of him.

"Oh?" His hand squeezes her and she narrows her eyes.

"Yeah, because shining armor is a sign that the knight was untested." She leans up, rubs her nose into his cheek, "I just don't see you letting yourself be untested."

No, he wouldn't, she was damn right about that.

Jiggling her, she makes the best faces when she's startled, Gale begins carrying her toward the smell of decidedly un-renaissance foods.

###################################

After two turkey legs, four jumbo corn dogs, half a pizza, and several beers, Gale is enjoying himself quite a bit more.

He leans over Madge, keeps his arms around her waist, presses sloppy kisses into her neck. She's _his_girlfriend and he just wants to make that clear.

Some pervert minstrel had followed her around earlier, while Gale was in line getting her a strudel, singing idiotic songs to her until Gale had shot a foam toy arrow at his head.

That's apparently not something you're supposed to do, even if some jerk is trying to serenade your girlfriend. Gale had ended up having to buy the stupid toy, now has it slung over his shoulder, making him look like some overgrown toddler Robin Hood, and had to apologize to the idiot or face expulsion from the fair. Despite the fact that he would've quite liked to have left, Madge's face, brilliantly red with embarrassment, let him know he would still need to apologize. Even if he was completely in the right.

"You should get one of those bar wench looking outfits," he grins into her cheek. "I'll even pay for it."

Perfect use of his dwindling paycheck.

Her eyebrows arch up, "I'm practically dressed like a nun, compared to that, right now and you nearly took out a poor guy's eye for singing about my _hair_, Gale. Do you really think you'd want me running around dressed like that?"

Gale scowls out at the crowd, as if they might be imagining Madge in the outfit.

"No, you'd just wear it for me." She's the one that had insisted on dragging him to this fantasy land. It isn't his fault he's getting in the spirit.

Madge seems to think that's funny, snorts a little.

He tightens his grip around her, pulls her closer to his chest.

"Gale," she sounds strained. He might be propping himself up on her a little too much. She pushes one of his hands from her chest, "Mind your hands Gale."

He _is_. His hands just have minds of their own. Dirty minds apparently.

Katniss appears, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, propped up by Peeta.

He's got one of the little wooden swords, is waving it high above his head.

"See," he points it at Madge and Gale. "Madge let Gale have a toy."

"I didn't really have a choice…" Madge shoots Gale a look and he widens his eyes innocently.

Missing Madge's annoyance, Peeta pokes Gale in the shoulder, slightly wobbly. He and Katniss must've found the beer too. "Ready your weapon, ye scurvy dog!"

"Peeta, I think that's pirate talk," Madge frowns.

Gale isn't sure. Was there a difference? Did it matter?

In a much better mood than earlier, he takes his PVC pipe bow and foam arrows, points one at Peeta, "I'll give you a head start, pignut."

"What's a pignut?"

"I dunno." He lets the arrow fly. It hits Peeta in the shoulder.

For a second Peeta just stares at the spot where the arrow had hit him, bounced off uselessly, then he looks up, grinning, before throwing his arms up, sword still in hand. "I am **invincible**!"

He takes off running, in the general direction of where the car is parked, sword aloft.

Katniss presses her hands to her face. When she takes them down she scowls, takes a few unsteady steps before tripping. "Peeta! Get back here!"

"Don't run with that, you'll put your eye out!" Madge yells at his back. She makes a noise, mutters something about being the only sane member of their group, then gives Gale a tug in the direction Peeta had run.

Gale presses his face into Madge's hair, tugs at one of the ribbons with his teeth.

He may not really care much for the fair, may like Madge's hair down better, but the day hadn't been a total waste. Her intricate hairdo may prove to be a pleasant beginning to the evening.


	9. Battle of the Breakthrough

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Battle of the Breakthrough**

Madge gives Peeta an annoyed look. They'd been abandoned and he seemed content to hum 'Hakuna Matata'.

Okay, that's a little harsh, Gale and Katniss haven't abandoned them exactly. They'd just told them to stay put instead of allowing them to join them on their trek across the woods to capture some stupid 'flag'.

Not for the first time, Madge wishes she's stayed home. Catching up on her programming, stored on her DVR, is much more appealing than hiding in some stupid 'bunker' for who knows how long, while her boyfriend and his best friend play some stupid war game.

_Why had he asked her to come if he didn't want her to play?_

Crossing her arms, she slumps down, taking a seat on the dirt scattered floor of the little cave like structure that had been deemed a 'safe' area during the course of the paintball game. Peeta gives her a small smile. "They're just competitive."

_Then they shouldn't have invited us._

When Gale had asked her if she wanted to come with he and Katniss on one of their weekend trips to play paintball with some of the people in their department, she'd been ecstatic. Gale didn't often invite her to participate in his favorite pastimes, mostly hunting, which she was grateful for, she didn't have the stomach to shoot Bambi or Thumper or any other woodland creature like he did.

A paintball game, though, had sounded fun.

It would be like filming a scene out of one of her favorite movies, dressed like some kind of futuristic warrior, and getting to spend time with her boyfriend while he looked incredibly hot.

What she'd gotten was a lecture about keeping her head down and Mossy Oak knockoffs and padding. Though Gale did look good in all of it.

Now though, just barely into the game, he and Katniss were gone and she's stuck, hot and irritable, with Peeta, just waiting to be either rescued or picked off.

"I don't care, Peeta. If they just wanted to run around by themselves, _we_ could've stayed home."

They could be eating snowcones and watching Hannibal slowly drive poor Will Graham off the deep end instead of feeling like a loser stuck in a dirty wallow.

Peeta drops down beside her, shrugging, "I warned you it wasn't going to be fun."

That he had. Peeta has been dating Katniss far longer than Madge had Gale, and he knows exactly how his girlfriend and Gale function. Which apparently didn't involve allowing their significant others to participate in what passed for a relaxing time in their bizarre world.

"I just wanted-I thought it would be fun." It wasn't though. Not by a long shot.

Gale always talked about how much fun he and Katniss had, and despite the fact that Katniss and Peeta were together, she felt a little jealous of the connection. They were a unit, and Madge was on the outside looking in. Just like all the other relationships in her life, she thinks bitterly.

Peeta starts to say something, probably that he'd yet to have fun on any of his girlfriend's day trips, but he's stopped short by the sound of voices coming up on them.

Peaking out, Madge sees Gale and Katniss, accompanied by couple of other similarly dressed combatants. They can't see Madge and Peeta's hid out yet, but Madge can clearly see them. She can see them smiling, laughing, and she can see a girl with short, spiky hair, touching Madge's boyfriend, being a little _too_ friendly.

Madge is use to girls hitting on Gale, getting a little too friendly, even when Madge is standing right _there_. This is a little more though, Gale is laughing too, seems to be enjoying himself. Is this how he acts with girls when Madge isn't around?

Noticing Madge's scowl, Peeta frowns.

"Oh, that's Johanna Mason, she's a grad student. Remember when Katniss got beat during the drinking game back in the fall?"

Oh, Madge did. That drunken battle had led to Madge rescuing Peeta and Katniss and kick started she and Gale's relationship.

"Johanna was the girl that kicked Katniss' butt."

Madge could imagine the wiry looking girl drinking Katniss under the table. Seeing her run her hand along Gale's shoulders, she could also imagine a lot of other things about her.

"Friendly, isn't she?"

When Peeta doesn't say anything, Madge knows there's a problem.

Narrowing her eyes, Madge glares at him, "What?"

To the outsider he doesn't look like he's hiding anything, but Madge knows better. She's known him since preschool, she knows his ticks, when he's keeping something from her.

He shrugs, "Nothing."

"_Peeta._"

Cutting her a look, he sighs, "She, uh, she and Gale mighta dated a little, you know, before the two of you got together."

To Madge's knowledge Gale hadn't really 'dated' anyone. He had been, at least to her eyes, a bit flighty, as non-committed as they came. He flirted, went on dates, but was never exclusive with anyone. That pretty much told her all she needed to know about he and this 'Johanna Mason's' relationship before he was with Madge.

It might've been a little childish, but despite the fact that Johanna is on the same team, judging by the swatch of color on her upper arms, Madge wants to knock her out of the game as soon as possible.

Knowing that the group is probably coming up to where she and Peeta are hiding, Madge gets up and heads quietly out before they can see her.

"Where are you going?" Peeta hisses to her from the opening.

"I'm leaving, if Gale wants to flirt with some-some _stupid girl_, he doesn't need me watching to do it." She'd just call Annie or one of the girls from the coffee shop she worked at to come and get her.

"Madge-"

Before Peeta can convince her otherwise, Madge takes off in a dead run.

After several minutes, she remembers she has no sense of direction. Damn.

She considers turning back, but realizes she hadn't exactly run in a straight line. 'Back' has become a relative term.

"Shit," she mutters to herself. This was supposed to be a fun day. Now she was angry with Gale, sweaty, and lost. Two thirds of that was her own fault, but she didn't care, she was blaming Gale anyway.

While she's contemplating trying to crawl up a tree, she has absolutely no service and thinks the extra height might boost her signal, she hears a rustling of leaves.

Dropping down, Madge rolls under a bush she's certain is filled with ticks and who knows what else, and waits for whoever it is to pass.

A girl, about her age, with brown hair, small, but solid looking, appears. She looks about as annoyed as Madge feels, her brow is wrinkled and her mouth is turned deeply down.

Madge is going to let her pass, she's wearing the same swatch of color on her arm as Madge, and has let her get several yards off, when she hears someone else coming up.

The girl turns, her paintball gun up, when a man, handsome and blond, bounds out beside her. His weapon is up, ready to fire at the girl, and Madge notices he has on the opposing teams swatch, purple. Reflexively, Madge rolls, has her rented paintball gun up, firing at the man's back.

"Sonofabitch!"

His back, dead center, is splattered with green. He's out.

Madge almost feels bad, she's quitting this stupid game anyway, she shouldn't have tagged him, but then he turns. Madge instantly recognizes him.

Ugh. Cato.

Twisting, he looks at his back, trying to find the source of his demise, but Madge is too well concealed.

"Looks like you're out," the girl smirks.

Cato says something to her, glares for a few minutes, before shoving past her, stomping off toward the main tower where the fallen were to convene.

Once he's safely away, Madge wouldn't put it past him to get her back even if he's out, she slowly crawls out from under the bush.

"Good shot," the girl gives her a small smile. It doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Considering it was the first time Madge had ever fired the stupid thing, yeah, it was. She nods, tries not to look too pleased with herself.

"You a solo player?" The girl asks.

Madge brushes some leaves from her hair, "No, I, uh…"

She almost says her stupid boyfriend brought her out, but is now more interested in making googley eyes at an ex-bedmate than showing her how to play, but that seems like a bit of an over share. Instead she shrugs.

"Came with some friends. Got separated."

Nodding, the girl shifts on her feet, "Yeah…me too."

Her tone makes Madge think maybe she's avoiding oversharing too, so she doesn't push it. Instead she offers her hand, "Madge."

A little warily, the girl takes it, "Clove."

#############################

After two hours, Madge and Clove have taken out two nests of the purple team.

Like Peeta and Madge, she has a love of movies and television. The girls use their, admittedly fictitious, knowledge of military tactics to aid them in ambushing the groups and quickly suppressing them.

"You've never played before?" Clove had asked after they took out the first group. Madge had displayed a proficiency with the paintballs she didn't realize she possessed and her surprise had spurred her to admit she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

"Never."

With stealth that would've made Gale and Katniss jealous, the two girls crept through the forest, sneaking up on different groups, skipping the ones with green swatches on and quickly taking out the ones with purple. They're an unstoppable team.

Clove, much like Madge, says she's there with friends, a boy named Marvel and a girl named Gabrielle. Much like Madge, she'd gotten fed up with her friends and their lack of faith in her.

"I'm in school to be a dental hygienist," she scowls. "I'm going to stab people in the mouth during clinical. I think I can handle pelting them with paint." As an afterthought she adds, "And I've taken kick boxing since junior high. I'm not weak."

Despite her impressive credentials, Clove's friends hadn't believed she was capable of holding her own, and so she'd taken off to show them she was more than albe of playing their 'stupid game', with or without their help.

Madge starts to tell her that she's taken a self-defense class and that she once kicked Cato, the jerk she'd shot when they met, in the nuts at a club, but decides that sounds less impressive than knowing kick boxing, so she keeps it to herself.

They're following along a stream, quietly padding on the detritus on the forest floor, when they hear something crashing through the thick foliage ahead. They drop, scramble into some cover just as a group comes out, up to the stream.

"God, Peeta," Gale grumbles. "Could you be any louder?"

Peeta doesn't look flustered at all. He simply smiles and shrugs before pointing his paintball gun at a tree and firing off a few shots, making a sloppy looking smiley face on the bark.

"Stop wasting ammo, bigfoot," the spiky haired woman, Johanna, tells him. To Madge's annoyance she's next to Gale, gives him an agitated look which he returns.

Clove shifts, looks to Madge, her eyebrows arch up. So far they'd simply avoided their own team, but she must recognize Peeta's name, Madge had mentioned it and it wasn't exactly common, so she's obviously curious if Madge wants to rejoin her friends.

She doesn't though. She's still mad at Gale. Not only had he left Madge and proceeded to flirt with Johanna, but, and it was the really stinging thing, he hadn't tried to include her in the game. He'd invited her, brought her, taken her out in the woods, but he hadn't taken the time to teach her anything, actually get her involved in the game. He doesn't believe in her.

It would serve them right if she and Clove took out the whole group right then and there.

Instead, and mostly because she wants to win now and she's pretty sure she and Clove have as much chance as anyone on the team of reaching the flag, she shrugs, jerks her head away from the group.

When their good and clear of Peeta, Gale, Katniss, Johanna, and their giant of a friend, Clove frowns, "Why didn't you want to join up with them?"

Madge makes a face as she considers her answer.

She isn't one to bare her soul to what is essentially a stranger. Slow to warm doesn't even begin to describe her. Gale has gotten annoyed with her on more than one occasion for isolating herself, 'bottling up', as he calls it. She doesn't make many friends, only acquaintances, doesn't enjoy all the stimulation that came with parties Gale and the others liked so much. But Clove is nice, a little too eager to curb stomp their opponents, but she's been good to Madge, and she reminds her a bit of a less terse Katniss. She'd told Madge about her own friends' less than stellar treatment, so Madge feels she might just owe her a bit of reciprocation.

"They left me in a 'bunker' so I wouldn't get hurt." She scowls, "They didn't think I could be any help." She looks back over her shoulder, in the direction her friends had gone, "I ran off."

Clove nods. She understands at least.

"You'd think they'd kick your friend Peeta off," Clove squints off in the distance. "He's loud. At least you're quiet."

Madge just smiles.

##################################

It's starting to get dark, the sun is sinking below the tops of the trees and the air is getting a little chillier when Madge and Clove finally reach the far side of the woods.

They stay low, the purple team have left a few defenders to guard their flag.

According to the rules, all the girls have to do is get through the pitiful blockade, up the platform, and grab the flag to end the game. The Referee, a bored looking man that Madge thinks might actually be asleep behind his goggles, will send up a flare, ending the game, if they do.

The platform is at the center of a clearing. Madge and Clove both decide there are probably people along the parameter, maybe up in the trees, watching for the inevitable.

It takes several minutes, but they finally spot two purples, one in a tree and the other camouflaged under what Madge is pretty sure is a bush laced with poison ivy. He won't have a good morning.

"As soon as we take them out it's going to alert the others."

Madge nods. They'd have to sprint across the open space, completely exposing themselves, and just because they hadn't seen anyone else on the parameter didn't mean there weren't more.

"I say we get the bush boy then haul butt across to the flag," Madge suggests. "I'll cover your back. I'm pretty sure I can get the tree sitter once we get to the half-way point. Better angle."

Clove nods, "We may not make it."

"We've come too far. We have to try."

Madge almost laughs at how serious they're being. It's a stupid game, but she can't help but feel that if she does this Gale will see that she isn't useless, that she's just as capable as Katniss or Johanna Mason at holding her own with him. She isn't helpless.

This isn't about a stupid flag, this is, strangely, bigger.

Taking a breath, Madge takes aim, lets a green paintball fly.

The idiot under the bush filled with poison ivy yells, alerts the others as Madge and Clove vault over the brush, out into the clearing. They dodge the hail of paintballs, being small moving targets has advantages

Clove trips in a small, very manmade looking hole, lets out a yell as she rolls, and Madge, who'd just turned back forward from taking out the girl in the tree, falls over her.

It's over, she knows it. They'd picked across the woods like a pair of battle hardened paintball veterans, and now they were going to be taken out by a simple trap.

Then like a big, goofy, blond headed savior, now belting out the lines 'with all the strength of a raging fire', Peeta bursts out of nowhere. He jumps over the lump of girls, lands with a thud as he fires and takes down two of the advancing defenders.

He pauses his singing long enough to point, tells Madge, "Take the flag!"

She looks to Clove, who nods, "Get it!"

Adrenalin pumping and the blood drumming in her ears, Madge vaults over Clove, rolls up to her feet and sprints to the platform, lunges up the steps, and snatches the flag from the small pole they have it secured to.

A flare lights up the dusky sky.

"We won!"

Peeta is grinning up at her, still standing near Clove.

The Ref yawns, nods. It's just another weekend to him.

Bounding down the steps, Madge throws her arms around Peeta's neck, "Where did you come from?"

###########################

Peeta is apparently the last 'survivor' of his group.

He grins, "My brothers and I used to play nerf war. I'm a pro at avoiding getting shot."

Madge sometimes forgets Peeta had grown up with two brothers, even though they were as much a part of her life as they were his. Rhys and Emmer are easy to forget about.

"I marked the trees so I wouldn't make circles, so I'd know where I'd been. I figured you'd be heading to the other flag. You looked pretty determined when you took off. I didn't think you'd just leave."

Peeta knows Madge, and he knew she would want to prove herself

He's helping Clove as they make their way back to the main gates. The little brunette is pink in the cheeks and keeps stumbling, though Madge gets the impression it isn't her sprained ankle making her misstep.

"So your girlfriend is here with you?" She asks, disappointment still flickering on her features. "And she left you two to fend for yourself?"

Peeta chuckles, "Well…you have to know Katniss."

When they get to the gate, Katniss narrows her eyes at her boyfriend half carrying another girl. Madge would feel bad, she _does_, but at least Clove isn't an ex-fling of Peeta's.

"Katniss, this is Clove," Peeta gestures between them. "Clove, this is my girlfriend, Katniss."

Katniss' shoulders seem to relax a little with the introduction. Peeta is so proud of Katniss, proud to call her his girlfriend, and despite the fact that he's a walking, talking embarrassment half the time, his dancing is atrocious, his singing has made the neighbor's dogs bark, he likes wearing superhero clothing, socks, boxers, and t-shirts, and he and Madge have earned more than one threat from their overuse of movie quotes, Madge knows Katniss is proud to call Peeta her boyfriend.

Madge wishes she could say the same about Gale and her.

Someone tugs on her flag, her trophy for making it up the platform, winning the game. Turning, she finds Gale.

His mouth is turned down and his hair is sticking up in all directions. Madge can see the fading indentions from his goggles under his eyes.

"Good job."

Madge nods. She wants to turn away, she's still mad at him letting that Johanna put her hands all over him, but she feels trapped on the spot.

"Didn't know you were any good at paintball."

"Me either."

A little smile tugs up his lips, "Guess I'll know better next time."

He must know he's said the wrong thing the moment it leaves his mouth. Madge can't control her face, she knows her jaw is clenched and her eyebrows her knitted tightly together as she glares at him.

"Next time?" She shakes her head tries to keep her voice from shaking, "There isn't going to be a next time. I don't go where I'm clearly not wanted."

Turning on her heals, she needs to get away from him, wash her face in the grimy sinks of the ladies room, but Gale catches her wrist.

"Madge, wait."

She jerks away, makes her way to the filthy little bathrooms.

Gale catches her, though, tries to pull her into a hug but she wiggles away.

"Hey, look, Peeta told me you were upset about the Johanna thing," he runs a hand through his hair, lets it settle on his neck. He swallows nervously, "I'm sorry. She's just…like that."

"You could tell her not to be." He could be like Peeta and tell her he has a girlfriend. Tell her to back off.

But Gale isn't Peeta. He may have liked Madge from a distance for a good chunk of his life, but he hadn't pursued her. Maybe because he didn't think he could, wasn't good enough, didn't deserve to, but, maybe, a nasty little voice in the back of her mind whispers, maybe he didn't try to get with her because he enjoys playing the field.

Maybe he isn't as in love with her as he's always thought.

"I need-Just leave me alone," she finally fills the long silence between them before disappearing into the bathroom.

She just barely lets the door drop shut before tears begin leaking out her eyes.

Through her bleary vision she makes her way to the sink, begins splashing her face with the brown tinged water that spurts from the faucet. It doesn't do any good though, just makes the tears come down harder until she's holding onto the sink's edge.

Covering her mouth she tries to muffle her sobs, but it doesn't do her any good, they just echo across the empty bathroom, clatter on the stalls sadly.

It's so loud she doesn't hear the door open, doesn't even know anyone is in the room until she feels arms around her.

"Shhh."

Gale's voice vibrates through his chest, gentle as ever, as he runs his fingers through her hair. He likes to do that, she knows, says it's calming. She thinks it's calming too.

"I'm sorry."

She knows he is. People are always sorry. It rings a little hollow, though, if he doesn't understand why.

"I don't want to be an afterthought, Gale." Peeta and Katniss aren't afterthoughts for each other, and she knows they're a lofty ideal to live up to, but it doesn't hurt to try.

"You are never an afterthought." She feels his lips in her hair, "You have to believe me."

He sounds so sincere, she wants to believe him. Evidence of the day points otherwise.

"How would you feel if I asked you to come to one of the concerts at the music center then left you in the hall while I went to hang out with some guy I used to sleep with?"

His arms tighten around her, crush her a little, "I get it." A warm sigh flutters across her scalp, "I just got caught up in the game. We all come down here all the time and, I don't know…I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to show off."

She starts to tell him that letting another girl hang all over him isn't exactly showing off, but then one his hands trails down her spine, traces along her hip and tugs the flag from her hands. She'd forgotten she was even holding it. "Guess you got to show off to me instead, huh?"

Madge takes the flag and stares at it for a minute. A few more tears slide down her cheek, splatter on her hands.

Gale's rough hands reach up, try to wipe them from her face, but ends up smearing the last traces of the days dirt across her cheeks. He grimaces, "Sorry."

When she doesn't meet his eyes, he presses his warm lips to her forehead, "You have to tell me what you're thinking. I'm not Peeta. I can't read minds."

She snorts, a sad little smile fixes on her face.

"I-I just, feel like you don't believe in me, not like you do with other people, and I get jealous."

Gale tilts her chin up, "Jealous? Of what?"

"You and Katniss…you and every other girl you've been with…"

He makes a face, "Katniss and I are like you and Peeta-"

"People don't ask Peeta and I if we're dating." They asked if they were brother and sister a lot, but never dating.

"Because people expect two people that look as miserable as Katniss and me to be in the last throws of a relationship."

Madge almost laughs. Almost.

"Katniss-we would be miserable together. Trust me," he brushes some of her tear wetted hair from her face. "We dated for two weeks in high school. Most awkward two weeks of my life. We're too much alike, too, I don't know-"

"Alpha?" Madge supplies.

Gale rolls his eyes, grumbles something she can't make out, before muttering, "Whatever." He sighs, "And the other girls aren't you. They were just…" he struggles for a word. When one fails to form, he grunts, "Look, they were just not _you_. They were moments, they happened, but they didn't go anywhere because I'd look at them and they weren't you. They couldn't be."

He's definitely making up for the Johanna thing.

"Can you please just not let girls touch you all the time?" She presses her fingers to her temples, "I know I'm being stupid, and I know you say it doesn't mean anything, but-"

She's cut off by lips pressing to hers, gentle at first, then more needy.

"You're gorgeous when you're jealous," Gale pants when he finally pulls back, presses his forehead to hers. His eyes flicker with something, she can't quite place it, then he sighs, "But I'm yours, okay. Johanna could ride up the elevators in the engineering building with me, buck naked, and I swear, I _swear_, I'd still be yours."

"I'm not Peeta, I'm not perfect, and I'm not great at this relationship thing. I know I hover with you, but I like taking care of you, that doesn't mean I don't believe in you. I just didn't think about any of the others enough to _want_to hover."

A little ping hits Madge's chest.

She was so used to taking care of herself that sometimes she forgot other people weren't like that. They hadn't grown up cleaning up after the people who were supposed to be cleaning up after _them_. For normal people taking care of someone wasn't a sign they doubted your abilities, that they didn't think you were capable, it was affection.

It's in moments like this, when she's so misjudged Gale's actions, that she realizes how far from average her life had been growing up.

Wrapping her arms around his middle, she presses her face into his chest, inhales the musty smell of his detergent and sweat before tilting her head up, resting her chin in his sternum, "I'm sorry I'm crazy."

She's sorry she's jealous and can't see something that's so plain as day to everyone else.

Gale dips down, presses another kiss to her lips, "You're just a little crazy, but I like it." He lifts her up, onto her toes, "Let's go home and get you cleaned up."

"Me?" He looked like he'd rolled around in mud and let it dry, and she felt it best not to mention his pants, which appeared to have torn around the knees.

"Yeah, you," he plucks a leaf from her hair. "And we should definitely check for ticks."

Madge sighs, "Fine, but that seems unfair. I'm not nearly as hairy as you."

It's almost funny how quickly the scowl takes over his face, "I'm not hairy."

It takes a great deal of effort not to laugh at him as she nods, "Oh, no, not hairy at all. You're…fuzzy."

"Fuzzy?" He begins poking her, tickling her. Damn. "Fuzzy? You have some kind of fetish then? 'Cause you're with me."

When he stops, lets her catch her breath, she smile brightly up at him, "And you're mine, right?"

Gale lets his hands dip down, squeeze her, "And don't you forget it."

Madge grins, "So, while I'm checking you for ticks, are you going to tell me how you and the rest of the Star Squad got knocked out of the game?"

Gale groans, "Ask, Peeta."


	10. Gross Anatomy

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Gross Anatomy**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Gale asks her for the millionth time as he walks her to the building on the outskirts of the campus. Her first anatomy lab.

She isn't, not by a long shot, but it's a prerequisite.

Over the summer she'd finally decided on a path in school, though her certainty has wavered with each passing day, as she inched closer to the class.

No longer is she able to claim being an undeclared. She's now, officially, a pre-nursing student.

It was a choice she hadn't come to lightly. Over the years, growing up, she had sworn up and down, after watching her mother go in and out of hospitals and rehab facilities, that she would never work in healthcare. It's a mostly thankless job as far as she could tell. Her mother, during the worst of her spells, was unbearable, frightening, and despite her frequent promises to Madge and everyone else in their family, she always fell back.

The inconsistence of her mother's stability and seeing not only her, but also the others she was in the facilities with, all the hardships it caused in the families, had made Madge certain working with the sick was the last thing she would ever want to do.

As unpleasant as her mother's stays had always been, though, Madge had felt the staff members genuinely cared for her, tried to make both her mother and the rest of the family feel what little hope they could. Madge felt compelled to pass that compassion on.

And that's why she's currently staring out at a building with an enormous refrigerator in the back.

"You won't even help me with the animals I bring back from hunting," he frowns. "How are you going to do…this?"

He really isn't helping.

"I'm…just going to get through it," she finally sighs. He worries about her too much. It's just because he cares, but it's still too much. It can't be good for him.

Spotting Clove coming up from the opposite direction, waving, Madge turns to Gale and pops up on her toes, presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Wish me luck."

Judging by the look on his face, he thinks she's going to need a lot more than luck, but he dips down, catches her lips for too short a time before whispering, "Good luck."

############################

The inside of the dissection lab has a very…unique smell. Madge wrinkles her nose when it hits her.

She stays near Clove and they press to the back wall of the little hall outside a pair of heavy doors that must lead into the main lab, behind the crush of the rest of the class.

A tall, bald man, a little intimidating looking, emerges gives them a wicked sort of smile. His name badge reads 'Brutus'. Perfect name for a man in charge of cadavers Madge thinks.

"Ground rules," he begins as one of his TAs starts passing out papers, a list of do's and don'ts for the lab.

His deep voice rumbles, warns them against taking photos with a threat of dismemberment, which Madge isn't one hundred percent certain is a joke, tells them that in the highly unlikely event that they think they know their cadaver to let him know.

"In all the years I've done this, though," he tells them with a very distinct downturn of his mouth, "I've only had one girl think she knew one of them. She didn't though." He sneers, "And don't even think of taking any souvenirs!"

_That's a little disturbing._ Who would take something from a cadaver lab? And what?

Actually…she's pretty sure she doesn't want to know.

"The TAs will pass out the dissection kits, but each group will be responsible for cleaning them after each use and putting them away." He glares out at them, daring them to not wash their utensils.

After a few minutes the doors open to a white walled room flooded in harsh fluorescent light and lined on both sides with four long metallic tables each, covered in sheets. Madge's stomach rolls just thinking about it what's under them.

"This is either going to be so gross or so awesome," Clove whispers.

Madge is pretty sure it's going to be the former, but can't seem to get her voice to work. Plus, she also isn't sure she would voice that to Clove, who seems to like the macabre. It's a little scary at times.

The crowd shuffles in. One of the TAs tells them, "Five to a table, please."

Clove heads to a far table, on the right side, and Madge trails after her. Maybe if she sticks with Clove she won't have to do as much dissecting.

They're quickly joined by a tall boy with a limp, then an ashen skinned girl with stringy hair.

"Hank," the boy offers them all smile. "I'm pre-occupational therapy."

"Laisa Robet," the girl, a little awkward, blurts out. "Pre-med, I don't actually have to take this class."

_Well why are you in-wait, what?_

"Okay," Clove rolls her eyes, clearly not caring what the other girl had said, "I'm Clove, going into dental hygiene."

"Madge," Madge says, brushing off Laisa's odd admission, feeling a little like she's in some sort of bizarre group therapy. "Pre-nursing."

"And I'm Cato."

Madge fights a groan, her luck couldn't possibly be that bad.

"Going to be the best damn physical therapist in the country."

Apparently, yes, it could.

Looking over, she sees the close cropped blonde hair and annoyingly grinning face of the nuisance she'd racked only months before.

She doubts he'll even be the best in his _class_, assuming he gets in, but she keeps her mouth shut. Apparently Cato, the world's most obnoxious human being, is the fifth man of their less than merry band.

Great, and she thought this couldn't get any more unpleasant.

He gives Madge a narrow look, "Well if it isn't little miss hit and run."

Biting her tongue, Madge fights the urge to tell him if he doesn't watch his mouth she's going to pull another 'hit and run' on him. Hadn't he learned anything from their last encounter? She isn't going to let him push her around. Maybe she should tell him she's the one that got him out during the paintball game back in the spring…

Before she can do anything, though, a couple of the TAs come to their table, plop a rag wrapped set of dissection tools down on the small rolling table.

Madge lets a tiny smile inch up her face.

Her coworkers from the coffee shop, Katy-Jo Lewes and Birdy Alameda, Gale's least favorite caffeine slingers, are pulling double duty again this year as TAs. Madge had conspired with them to get in one of the sections they were assisting with, so they could help her with study sessions during shifts at the coffee shop.

"I'm Katy-Jo Lewes and this is Birdy," Katy-Jo Lewes tells them with her ever bright smile. "We're gonna be walking between these back two tables."

Cato looks unimpressed. They're not the most impressive looking pair, but Madge knows they're not to be trifled with. He squints down at their name badges, "It says Phoebe?"

Birdy gives him a flat look, "I go by Birdy."

"Probably for the best," he gives Hank a look, clearly thinking a boy will share his sense of humor, "I hear Phoebe, I expect to see an old woman."

Neither Hank, nor any of the other occupants of the table seem to find that humorous. Or they're afraid of the deadly look Birdy is shooting Cato's way.

"Funny," Birdy drawls, "I hear 'Cato' and I expect to see reasonably priced women's fashion." She lets her eyes flicker up and down Cato's frame, his brightly pants and his print covered shirt, "Well, I guess at least one of us isn't using false advertising."

Hank snorts.

Color rises in Cato's cheeks and Madge wonders if he's going to complain to the head instructor, but before he can get his mouth moving, spit out something vile at either girl, they brush past him, begin pulling the sheet from the body on the table.

_What the hell is on the face?!_

Madge suddenly feels she's in an episode of 'Law and Order', looking down at a murder victim. There's a plastic bag over the face, which is also covered with a thick looking paper towel covering the features.

"We do the head and face last," Katy-Jo Lewes explains as she leans with her forearm on the body. It grosses Madge out more than a little.

"You'll start with the back," Birdy pulls a little scalpel from the towel, twirls it between her fingers. "First, though, you have to flip the body."

#############################

Flipping the body, putting it face down, gets Madge a little too up close and personal with the icy cold skin. When it flops over, with a loud thud, her heart stops, thinking it's going to bounce off the narrow little table and crush her.

The entire group works well together, with the exception of Cato. He seems to think his only job needs to be holding the book and pointing out the few muscle groups they manage to uncover during the first class.

"Hey, boy, you'll have plenty of time to plan out your fall collection for the flirty and fabulous after class," Birdy snatches the atlas of the human body from his hands and tosses it to the little rolling table.

Cato gives her a glare before grumpily picking up one of the tools, begins scraping unenthusiastically at some fat.

It's almost tolerable; Madge doesn't feel nauseated or faint as she'd feared she would. She is, however, losing her appetite with each word that leaves Katy-Jo Lewes and Birdy's mouths.

"Fat looks a bit like cream corn."

"This always makes me want steak."

"-and sometimes it has a pudding-like consistency."

"-smells a kinda like corn chips."

"You know you're ruining tons of foods for us, right?" Madge finally says. She's now certain she can't eat anything but bread for the rest of her life, and maybe some candy.

"It does look a bit like cream corn," Clove frowns as she drops a glob of yellow fat into the bucket below the table. "I'll never be able to eat that again."

Madge nods and Katy-Jo Lewes and Birdy just shrug. Clearly ruining people's desire to eat isn't a new occurrence to them.

"And make sure you can live with never being able to wear whatever fragrance you slather up in after class ever again," Katy-Jo Lewes tells them, a forlorn little look on her face.

"Oh, 'Coconut Lime Verbena', I miss not associating you with cracking ribs and bone saws," Birdy sighs.

Madge tries to block them out and not think about her 'Strawberry Sorbet' hand sanitizer in her backpack and how by the end of the semester she might not be quite so fond of the smell.

"Can you two just, I don't know, not talk unless it's something constructive?" Hank finally asks.

"It just gets too quiet in here, though," Katy-Jo Lewes pouts.

"We used to have an iPod dock," Birdy says, casting a sad look to the corner of the room, where a couple of outlets sit emptily. "They took it away because we played _one _particular Drowning Pool song."

Judging by the looks on their faces they don't see why their song choice necessitated the removal of their obviously beloved dock.

Clove pops up from tracing the edge of the latissimus dorsi from origin to what she hopes is the insertion with a small glob of yellow in her hair.

"Oh, gross," Madge gags.

Clove's eyes widen in horror, Madge suspects she's probably trying to plot out the fastest way home so she can boil her hair. That's what Madge would be doing if she had fat stuck in hers.

Hank reaches over and carefully plucks it out, grimacing, "Maybe we should wear hair nets."

_Maybe we should wear full body condoms… _

Madge has the sudden urge to borrow Gale's waders, rubber boots, and whatever plastic-like upper body cover she can get her hands on. If she asks him nicely he might take her to a surplus store, they might sell hazmat suits. Or she could just check Amazon…

Would they let her into class if she looked like Walt White?

She might need to run it by the girls.

############################

Class lets out, shortly after Cato leaves for the bathroom and doesn't come back, conveniently leaving all the cleaning to his tablemates.

"What an asshat," Hank grumbles as he helps make sure they have all the tools gathered up.

Laisa, who is a little quiet, but otherwise nice, takes them to the sink to clean while Madge and Clove push the table into the giant freezer.

"I understand the term deadweight now," Madge huffs.

Katy-Jo Lewes notes the missing member with annoyance.

"He best not be skipping out next class."

Birdy twirls her scalpel again, "Does he not realize he's outnumbered fairly heavily here?" She grins wickedly, "He takes off early again and I'll show him just how good at dissection I am."

When they finally exit the chilly building, Madge hadn't even noticed how cold it was until she stepped out, Gale is waiting in the parking lot across the street. He's leaning against his truck, looking warm and comfortable and untainted with the smell of chemical preservatives.

"God your boyfriend is hot," Clove says as she squints across the street at him.

Madge feels her mouth tug up into a smile. _Yes he is._

"See you Thursday then?" Madge clarifies as she begins walking in Gale's direction.

"Yeah," Clove grimaces, runs a hand through her brown hair, inspecting it for further contaminants. "I feel so gross. I'm gonna go boil myself in the shower."

"Makes you wonder if the chemistry department would consider renting out the autoclave, huh?"

Clove makes an affirmative noise before taking off to the right, towards the dorms, "See you later Madge!"

Cutting across the main road, jogging, into the parking lot and into Gale's waiting arms. He smells so good. So clean. So not like dead bodies.

"I need a bath _so_ bad. You can't even imagine."

Gale's mouth turns down, a little crease forms between his eyes as he leans in and sniffs her. His eyebrows rise, "You do have an interesting fragrance on."

Yes, 'Strawberry Sorbet' and death. What a combination, she should bottle it up and try to sell it at the mall.

"Other than your new, um, perfume, how did it go?"

Surprisingly, Madge thinks to herself, not too bad.

She smiles up at him, "I think I'm gonna make it."

Enjoy it? Probably not. But she's sure she wants to do this now. If she can make it through anatomy with Cato then she can make it through anything else that's thrown at her.

Her face buries in his chest, "Can I stay with you tonight?"

His place is so much closer and her first lecture on Wednesday is at seven-thirty and she still hasn't done her the assigned problems for her section….

"You just want help with your chemistry."

Is she that transparent?

"Fine, just drop me o-"

Gale cuts her off with a kiss. When he pulls back he's grinning, "Not a chance." He sniffs her again, and frowns, "But first I'm giving you a bath."

Madge grimaces, "I may have fat in my hair. You may want to leave this one to me."

His eyes roll upward, "I'm a hunter, Madge. I'm pretty sure there's nothing on you I can't handle."

"That's quite a bold statement, Gale," she gives him a small flicker of a smile.

"I'm a bold man," he kisses her again. The little crease forms between his eyes again, "You sure you're okay?"

She nods. It's shocking, but she's really okay. Which should disconcert her more than it does.

"Well then," his grin gets a little wicked, "let's go home and put some of this newfound knowledge of the human body to good use."

She contemplates telling him the anatomy he's thinking of won't be part of her 'newfound knowledge' until the end of the semester, but decides against it. "Haha."

Pulling the door to his truck open, he gives her a little push in.

Curling into his side, Madge tries to soak up every inch of his warmth she can. Getting special attention from her worrywart boyfriend is a nice benefit of this new path she's chosen, and she's learning to be happy and accept it.

Besides, she's pretty sure this kind of attention benefits him every bit as much as it does her.


	11. The Date: A Second Attempt

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**The Date: A Second Attempt**

I'm putting the approximate time of each chapter on the college and high school au to see if that helps cut down on the confusion from them being out of order. Let me know if it helps.

Fall, Freshman Year

Gale is almost afraid to pick Madge up for their second official date.

After the disaster that had been their first one, which had abruptly ended with Madge regurgitating most of her dinner and then some in the sushi shop's bathroom, he desperately wants this date to go better.

She's at work, the little coffee shop he'd taken her to at the beginning of the semester, and she'd asked off early so they could make it to his reservations at the City Circle. Gale had checked the menu, twice, to make sure there were things Madge's apparently delicate constitution could digest. He'd gotten them a balcony table on the deck level, which supposedly had an amazing view of the city.

The little bell jiggles over the door when he walks in, inhales the soul warming aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"Well don't you look like you just fell out off the cover of GQ."

"Dorothy, your peach fuzz looks a little darker today."

_Great._Katy-Jo Lewes and Birdy Alameda, the demon baristas of campus corner.

He should've brought Peeta to distract them. They practically fawn over him, it drives Katniss crazy.

Rather than feed into their sniping Gale stuffs his hands into his pockets and slouches over to his favorite table, in the far corner, a healthy distance from the two dingbats.

He catches a glimpse of Madge, hair pulled back in a loose bun and a few coffee stains on her little apron. She's preparing a couple of large mugs of coffee, adding shots of something or another to them, before putting them on the little tray and sliding them across the counter to the pair of girls in front of her.

She comes out from behind the counter, carrying a plate of something, a muffin of some sort, to a table, and sends a quick grin Gale's way, mouthing the words 'Give me a minute'.

Straightening up, he hadn't realized how much he'd been slouching over the little table, Gale smiles back. His heart speeds up. This date has to go better than the last. If they can't even get through something as simple as a date what is that going to say about their relationship?

While his stomach is rolling with anxiety, he fails to notice the pair of figures swooping down on him.

"Not gonna give our little Magdalene food poisoning again, are you Lil'D?" Alameda flashes him a wicked smile.

Gale rests his chin in his hand, elbow to table, studiously ignoring them, and hopes they take the hint and leave. He isn't that lucky.

The seat across from him makes a screeching noise as someone pulls it out, plops down at the table with him. Glancing over, he finds Katy-Jo Lewes, arms and legs crossed, staring him down. "We have come to determine your intentions with our sweet Madgie."

He intends to take her to a nice dinner and not end the night in the minor emergency. He intends to drive her home and get a goodnight kiss, and if that escalates to something more then so be it.

He intends to show Madge that he's good enough for her, even if she insists that he has nothing to prove.

"What are you two doing?"

Madge appears just as Gale is about to tell the human parasites to take their concern and stuff it. She's changed her clothes, is in an expensive looking dress and a pair of heels. She gives the pair a small smile, "Be nice."

"We're just looking out for you, hon." Katy-Jo Lewes golden eyes flicker away from Gale, smiling at Madge, "He's a real scoundrel, this one."

She might be teasing him, Gale isn't certain. Madge seems to think so, though, because she snorts, rolls her eyes, "Right. Thanks."

Before they can say anything, annoy him more, Gale gets up and heads to the door, hoping Madge will quickly follow.

She lags for a minute, the two idiots are whispering conspiratorially with her, before she laughs, waves to them as she follows Gale's path to the door.

"What'd they say?" He asks, shooting the grinning and waving girls his filthiest look as the door drops closed.

"Birdy was offering to shank you if you get too handsy. I told her you would were a perfect gentleman on our last date and I think you will handle yourself just fine on the second."

#######

Madge looks a little pale in the street light outside the City Circle. She chews her lip.

"It's pretty swank."

Gale wonders if it's as 'swank' as the places she's used to.

She pulls her sweater closer to her, shivers a little. Gale reaches over, wraps an arm around her shoulder, she's like ice.

"Damn," he mutters. "Why didn't you wear something warmer?"

Her mouth turns down and she shoots him a look from under her lashes.

"I figured if you were taking me to a fancy restaurant I'd better dress nicely."

While he appreciates the gesture, appreciates the view even more, surely she had a nice dress that wouldn't turn her into a human popsicle. Women's fashion, though, isn't his area of expertise, so he just grunts, begins pulling her toward the doors.

There's a man at a lectern, pointedly ignoring them when they walk in. Gale clears his throat, he isn't about to let this guy ruin his night.

"Table for 'Hawthorne'," Gale tells him firmly, trying to sound like he isn't intimidated by the low lighting and intricate patterns on the wall.

The man looks down at his book, scans it, probably not expecting to find anything even remotely like 'Hawthorne' on the list. His eyebrows arch up in surprise, though, when he clearly does.

He looks up, obviously annoyed that he's going to have to seat a pair of kids, before waving his hand to the arched door behind him, "Follow me."

Gale feels Madge's cool hand wrap around his as they trail behind the old man.

They make a winding path between a few tables, skirt along the outskirts of the room before reaching the balcony. There are only a few other people on it, all older than Gale and Madge, all clearly well off if the jewelry on the woman to Gale's left is any indication.

Feeling a little self-conscious, Gale straightens his shirt, the jacket he'd paid way too much for, takes a deep breath before pulling the chair out for Madge. She sits, perfectly graceful, helps him scoot her up to the table, and flashes him a bright smile, trying to encourage him.

Swallowing down the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach, Gale takes his seat, accepts the wine list and menu, forces a terse smile for the man whose nose is still stuck in the air.

He's already picked his meal, during his scouting of the menu for Madge, but he gives the overpriced food a cursory look anyway before glancing up at Madge.

Her lower lip is between her teeth as her eyes move along the inside of the ornate menu. Gale can almost feel her anxiety, it's practically radiating off her. After a few seconds she seems to come to a decision, nods to herself, then sets the menu down.

"What are you getting?" Gale asks. She seemed way too nervous for his liking.

"Oh," she smiles. "The minestrone soup."

He squints at her, "Then what?"

Her smile falls, "That's all."

_What?_

She couldn't be serious. He'd called in favors to get a reservation at this stupid restaurant, done research about the menu, spent good money on a whole new outfit for the ordeal, there's no way he's going to let her put all his hard work to shame by only ordering an appetizer.

He watches her shift in her chair, clearly uncomfortable with the look he's giving her.

Madge keeps her eyes on the table, toys with the silverware, more utensils than have ever graced any place setting at the Hawthorne house, and Gale feels a sudden flare of annoyance.

Did she not want to order more because she didn't think he could afford it? He wouldn't have brought her to this stupid overpriced restaurant if he couldn't pay for her meal.

"I have money, you know?"

She looks up, a little confused at first, then her nose wrinkles up, "I know that, Gale."

"Well then," he reaches across the table and pushes her menu back towards her, "get an actual dinner."

Lower lip puckering, she ignores the menu, "I'm just not that hungry."

_Bullshit._

It's a bit like arguing with Posy, he knows he's going to lose, but he's going to keep it up anyway. This may be the only time they get into a place this nice and he doesn't want her worry about his finances to ruin the night.

He picks up the menu and finds the pasta, she likes pasta.

"What about the lasagna?"

Lip back between her teeth, she nods, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Annoyed with her lack of faith in his finances, Gale shuts the menu, sits back in his chair and takes in the surroundings.

There are tiny white lights laced through the canopy above their heads. Wisteria vines, dangling purple flowers hang in icicles down around the edges of the balcony, their scent drifts in the wind around them.

Beyond the edge, just as promised, is a breathtaking view of the city. Parts of the university are lit on the horizon, glowing in the distance. Soft and harsh lights burn in the distance, demarking the downtown and the outskirts, where the majority of the residents lived. If he squints, looks hard enough, he's pretty sure he can find his front porch…

He's pulled from his observations by the waiter coming back, standing snootily beside him.

"Have you and the lady made your selections?"

Gale nods, caught a little off guard by his arrival. "Yeah, uh, I'll start with the calamari then the prime rib," he swallows, flicks his eyes to Madge to make sure she wants him to order for her. She gives him a tight smile, so he continues, "And she'll have the minestrone soup and lasagna."

He's pretty sure he stuttered every other word, but the waiter is less hostile than the man that had seated them, smiles tells him 'Excellent choices, sir' and bustles off.

"We made such weird combos," Madge snorts, some of the anxiety gone from her demeanor.

Not really understanding what she's talking about, Gale picks up the wine list, it might be a good idea to get something even if Madge won't touch it. One glass won't break him.

He glances back at Madge, she's sitting a little stiffly again, staring out at the city like he had been doing only minutes before.

"What's the matter with you?" He finally asks. She's being too closed off, they'd been making such good progress. Tonight was supposed to be his chance to prove to her that he could make it in the world she'd grown up in, the world of snooty men, too much silverware, overpriced foods and uncomfortable shoes.

Madge's mouth turns up, just barely, doesn't reach her eyes.

"I-I don't know," she makes a face at one of the many little forks. "I just feel so out of place."

She feels out of place? How does she think he feels?

"You went to these kind of places with your parents all the time," Gale points out. She should be used to this fancy crap.

"Yeah," she slumps a little, "I felt out of place then too." A little sigh escapes her lips, "Everything was always so fake. Everyone was out for something, trying to prove something. You never knew if someone was really being nice or if they were trying to get an edge." Her shoulders droop a little more, "And then there was the gossip. My mother…she wasn't exactly a social darling, and you can't even imagine all the things people said about her. Some of it was true, but…I was right there! They whispered about all the horrible things going on in my life like I couldn't even hear it and all I could do was smile and pretend it didn't hurt." She takes a deep breath, "Being here just kind of brings it all back."

That hadn't been his intention at all. If he'd have known all that…

"I'm sorry," he feels his own shoulders droop a little. "I just wanted to take you somewhere nice. Somewhere like you were used to and wouldn't make you sick."

Of course his best intentions brought out bad memories. Just his luck.

"Gale, I keep telling you, I don't need fancy dates. There's a reason I live with Katniss, why I went and got a job, why I don't like going to functions with my dad." She reaches across the table and takes Gale's hand, "Just because I was born into that life doesn't mean it's the life I want to live. I like you. I loved our first date, even if I ended up looking like a banshee."

Gale nearly chokes on his laughter. She hadn't looked even remotely like a banshee.

Madge's smile brightens, "I don't want to waste money on fancy food. All I want is to spend time with you, get to know the real you and let you get to know the me you haven't really met yet. If you want to eat here, that's fine, I'll eat here, but I'd be just as happy with a snowcone and a Happy Meal."

He is not buying her a Happy Meal. She and Peeta have a collection of toys from the stupid things and he won't be adding to it.

This place is a waste of money though. Gale is pretty sure he can make a steak better than whoever is in the kitchen and he isn't all that fond of calamari.

"No Happy Meal." She never needs to eat a child meal again. "But maybe we can go get that snowcone."

#######

They both pretend to go to the bathroom before bolting from the restaurant. Gale's pretty sure he'll never get reservations again, but he honestly doesn't care.

Madge gets a strawberry shortcake snowcone and he gets one dubiously named 'The Caped Crusader', some kind of mix the stand owner had created himself.

"It tastes like insanity," he warned Gale.

He takes a bite as he and Madge sit in the motel chairs on the slab in his backyard.

"Mmmm, so this is what insanity tastes like." A bit like grape and cinnamon. He flashes Madge a toothy, purple smile. "Wonder why they didn't name it after one of the bad guys?"

"Because," Madge tells him, "Batman is deeply troubled, probably just as troubled as the villains he fights. I mean, the guy does dress up as a giant bat."

_Good point._

"You read a lot of Batman?" That…wouldn't surprise him actually.

She shakes her head, licks some of the red juice from her lips, "I read a lot of Wikipedia."

"Of course you do."

She grins, "The universes around Batman and, I don't know, all the characters in the DC and Marvel Universes are very complex. I was just reading something one day and stumbled across something, and one thing led to another, and bam! It was two in the morning and I was learning about multiverses and timelines…" Her feet, free from the heels she'd forced them into for the date, curl up under her in the chair. She pulls the old blanket Gale had given her closer around her shoulders, "It's all really interesting. Makes you think about all the possible worlds we could exist in."

Gale briefly wonders about all the versions of him that could exist, wonders if any of them were brave enough to ask Madge out earlier than he had.

_That's stupid_.

He shakes the thought away. All there is, as far as he's concerned, is the here and now. Thinking about multiple timelines and different versions of his life makes his head hurt.

Taking a scoop of his snowcone, he flings it at her, hitting her in the knee. He grins, "Maybe in another timeline you avoided that."

Rolling her eyes, she takes another bite of her snowcone, "I don't think you're really understanding the concept."

She goes off on a tangent, explaining away the various worlds that could have or can exist, mentioning all kinds of wild possible lives for them. Her hands move wildly and her eyes flicker with excitement as she tells Gale about some show she had been watching, something about red and blue universes and 'Observers'.

"You are such a weirdo," he tells her, laughing as she's explaining about a cow named 'Gene'.

"Well _you_asked me out," she tells him loftily. "So I think you'll just have to put up with me for a few more dates before you can dump me."

He has absolutely no plans to dump her. Unless she turns into an ogre at midnight, which he will easily be able to tell in about another half hour, he isn't leaving her. Even _if_ she turns into an ogre he really doesn't think he'd want to lose her. Getting the courage to ask her out had taken him too long. He isn't about to lose her over her apparent knowledge of something as weird as timelines and sci-fi shows.

"A few more dates, huh?" Gale runs a hand over his chin in mock-consideration, "Did you read that in the 'social skills' article on Wikipedia?"

"…maybe," Madge's strawberry red lips turn up.

He flings another spoon of snowcone at her.

Their date hadn't exactly gone as he'd so carefully planned, but it had gone infinitely better than the last, and for that he's grateful. They got through their second date with Madge smiling, and Gale is pretty sure that bodes well for their relationship.


	12. It's all fun and games

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**It's all fun and games**

Fall, Freshman Year

Madge groans as Katniss gets incrementally closer to Gale's face, little sprays of spittle flying out of her mouth as she continues her tirade.

At least she had thrown down her golf club. Being unarmed made the likelihood that this little adventure will end in the emergency room a little less.

Really, there's no reason to be fighting. It's only putt-putt golf.

Madge knew, from the moment Peeta had invited her, that she should've said 'No'. Katniss and Gale are hypercompetitive, and giving them weapons is the worst possible thing she can think of doing.

After all, these are the two that had turned a game of _Monopoly_into a casualty case.

It had started simple enough. Gale had helped Katniss and Madge finish moving into their apartment, the week before classes started, and Peeta, sweet, unsuspecting Peeta, had stumbled upon Madge's board games.

"Chutes and Ladders! Candyland! MONOPOLY!"

He'd ordered pizza and set up the game. Things had gone downhill from there.

Katniss and Gale had argued over who got to be banker, accusations were made about games from long ago, before Peeta was finally appointed the position.

"He's her boyfriend, he'll help her cheat!"

"I don't cheat you lying jackass!"

They were really a charming pair. Madge could see why Peeta liked hanging around them so much.

Then they'd argued over playing pieces.

"You got the racecar last time!"

"No I didn't! I had the battleship! I get the car this time!"

Were they eight? No, Madge thought, eight year olds weren't nearly so ridiculous over a board game.

Once they'd finally decided that Peeta would be the racecar and Madge got the battle ship, the only fair arrangement, the actual game had started.

Between quibbling over rules, standard or Peeta and his brother's 'Get Rich or Die Trying' rules, which Madge felt should've actually been called 'The Godfather Rules', and fighting about what the 'free parking' prize was, it actually became enjoyable. That was, until Katniss took Boardwalk and Gale got Park Place.

Madge is still unclear what happened after that, something to do with the railroads and Illinois Ave, but Katniss and Gale started arguing again. Then the Scotty dog was thrown.

How Peeta ended up hit was still a mystery. Madge thinks he was reaching for a discarded pineapple from Gale's pizza, but she isn't sure. All she knew was that less than half an hour later she was sitting in the emergency room with a very contrite looking pair of bankrupt millionaires and Peeta with a washrag over his very reddened eye.

When Peeta was called back Madge had sent Katniss and Gale out to the parking lot. They were still assigning blame for the injury to the other.

"Make up before Peeta and I get back," she'd told them, giving them her sternest glare as she did so. "I'm not listening to the two of you bicker all the way home. It was a_board game_. We shouldn't be in the ER over a board game."

"Monopoly injury, huh?" The doctor, white-headed with a bushy, bristly mustache and a limp, squinted at Peeta. "You aren't the first and, god help me, I doubt you'll be the last." He turned back to the computer affixed to the wall. "Looks like a corneal abrasion."

The nurse, a younger woman with cherry lipstick and flaming red hair, nodded at his assessment.

"Looks small," he grunted, just barely giving Peeta's eye a glance. "Take some Tylenol or Motrin. You'll be fine."

The nurse, her badge read 'Angela' arched her eyebrows, "Should he follow up with an ophthalmologist?"

Madge got the impression she meant to say 'he _should_ follow up with an ophthalmologist' but didn't seem to have the authority.

"Sure, if he wants."

When the doctor left, Madge never caught his name and he had his badge turned suspiciously backwards, Angela told them to make an appointment to get Peeta's eye checked as soon as possible and that if his pain got worse or his vision went south to come back.

"You're a new student?" She'd smiled at them as she finished giving Peeta his paperwork.

Madge nodded. She had just wanted to get home, they'd been in the white walled hell for almost five hours just to be told to take over the counter medication.

"Living in the dorms?"

"No," Madge told her. "Opted out. We have an apartment off campus."

Angela looked relieved, "Thank god." She gave them both a firm look, "Those 'Uno' tournaments the dorms have always end here." Her head shook, flaming locks flowing the motion, "Dehydration and palpitations from energy drinks, all over a card game."

It was only a few weeks later, after classes had settled down, that Madge had learned about the annual 'Uno 'til you out' tournament the nurse had been talking about. Half of Madge's English class went missing for several days after the commencement, all coming back with tells of heart monitors and fluid boluses.

Now, in the half lit back lot of the 'Fun Zone', just a few paces from a creepily grinning head of a clown with a missing tooth and weather worn paint, Madge wonders if maybe a caffeine and candy fueled card game extravaganza in the comforts of a dorm common room wasn't a well reasoned plan.

"I'm not even keeping score," she tells Peeta quietly. "No one is winning."

He shrugs, "I'm thinking we ditch them and go play in the ball pit."

Madge rolls her eyes, "You can't, remember? The manager told you if you got in there again he'd call the police and have you banned for life."

No amount of joy from jumping head first into a pit of balls, that are no doubt covered in slobber and snot, is worth ending up on a predator watch list.

"Kids get all the fun," he grumbles.

It's going on ten minutes, Peeta had set the timer on his phone, when Gale and Katniss finally yell themselves out, stomp off in opposite directions.

Peeta starts to go after Katniss, and Madge, naturally, follows behind. He stops, gives her a slight look, "Uh, I'll take care of her, you get Gale."

"What?" No, she will not 'get Gale'. "Can't we just get Katniss, calm her down then go find him together?" Gale's cranky and irritable, more so now that he's been arguing with Katniss. "Besides, I'm the last person he'll want to talk to."

"Whatever," Peeta rolls his eyes. "Gale likes you just fine. Go talk him down. They both just need some time to cool down."

Reluctantly, Madge trudges off to find him, certain she's going to lose a limb when she does.

#######

He's playing skee ball, easily racking up tickets, when Madge finds him.

His eyes cut over, for just a few seconds, when Madge comes to the side of the machine, leans against the wall.

"Katniss was cheating," Madge starts. It's true. She'd kicked her ball and moved it after the windmill had knocked it off course, put it back in the playing area.

Gale grunts, "Would've been more helpful to say that during the fight."

"It's miniature golf, Gale, not the Masters Tournament," she sighs. "Who cares if she cheated?"

The answer to that is apparently 'Gale Hawthorne'.

"She gets away with crap like that all the time and you guys let her do it," he tosses one of the heavy balls up and it lands in the hole labeled '50', sending several tickets spitting out at his knees. "Katniss gets a pass on everything because she's Katniss and things always go her way."

Madge gets the sudden sinking feeling they aren't talking about stupid mini golf.

"Um…"

"My grades were just as good as hers, but did I get a big fat scholarship? Nope. I'm in the same boat as she is, worse actually, I have three siblings, and I still can't get near as much help as she gets." He throws another ball, hits another '50'. "She's just as cranky, more antisocial than me, but she still gets Mellark drooling all over her, forgiving her everytime she does something jerkish, and I-yo-I can't…"

Suddenly Gale looks a little lost in the wildly flickering lights of the arcade games that flash and flare around them, the mechanical chiming music that plays, congratulates people throwing little basketballs and footballs across the game room each time they make a basket or hit their target.

"And then there's you…"

_Oh god, here it comes_.

He's never seemed particularly fond of her, tolerates her at best, but she'd hoped college had eased that dislike. Madge was too rich, made grades that were too good, was too this or that…

Now that he's had his go at Katniss and her perceived perks he's going to pick on Madge.

She braces herself.

"You…" his eyes flicker over, up and down her, "You wouldn't understand."

That's true, she probably wouldn't. She's never struggled, at least not financially, not like he has. She's never worried about how she's going to pay for anything. It makes her feel more than a little guilty.

He reaches down, rips what appears to be hundreds of tickets from the front of the skee ball machine and takes off, leaving Madge still leaning against the wall.

Nearly tripping, she takes off after him, catches him as he weaves between the tables blocking his way to the counter where they count tickets.

"Gale, none of that's Katniss' fault."

His feet come to a stop, he glances down at her, sighing, "No, just the way it is." One of his hands, the one free of tickets, comes up and runs over his face, up through his hair before settling on his neck. "I just-I wish I could catch a break."

Without thinking, Madge reaches up, gives him a little pat on the arm, "You will."

She doesn't actually know that. Heaven knows in the areas she wants to catch a break in _Madge_ certainly hasn't. She has money but her parents are absentee, and a little attention is all she's ever really wanted. Gale has to be luckier. He has so much, even if he doesn't realize it, and that will pay off more than all the money in the world someday, she's certain of it.

When his eyebrows scrunch together Madge realizes she still has her hand on his arm, lets it drop quickly down.

He's off again, leaving her behind as he takes long strides over to the counter and deposits his tickets for the pimply faced boy to put through the counting machine. For several long minutes Gale ignores her, watches the paper tickets run quickly through the machine and the digital numbers increase.

"Uh," the boy, his voice is cracking, finally squeaks out when the last ticket shoots through. "You can get anything you want."

_That's a lot of tickets._ He must be very good at skee ball.

Gale's eyes flicker to Madge, he makes some kind of grunting noise, his generally preferred means of communication with her, then points to a large bird of some kind. It's yellow, like a giant stuffed canary.

The moment the boy puts it in Gale's hands he shoves it at Madge.

"Hold this," he tells her roughly.

_Great, I'm his pack mule now._ She thinks irritably.

They leave the building, cross the grounds, past the batting cages and the bumper cars, to where Peeta and Katniss are sitting at a picnic table, munching on an atrocious looking basket of nachos.

"Nice bird," Peeta snorts, eyeing the enormous bird as Madge plops it down next to him.

Katniss crosses her arms, looks like she might start arguing again, and Gale does the same, but then Peeta makes a noise, somewhere between a grumble and a tut, and she deflates a little.

"Sorry." Since she doesn't say what she's sorry for Madge isn't sure Gale will accept the apology, and for a second it looks like he won't. His eyebrows knit together, mouth turns down firmly, then his glare flickers to Madge, to the giant yellow atrocity she's planning on using to suffocate them both with if they start fighting again, and sighs.

"Whatever."

They spend a few tense seconds staring at each other, then Peeta breaks the tension.

"You won quite the bird for Posy, huh?"

Gale's mouth turns up into a smirk, "Nope."

Katniss' eyebrows arch up, "What do you mean 'nope'?"

"I mean 'nope'," he makes the 'p' pop a little louder than necessary. "That's Madge's bird."

Madge gives the bird a look. For some reason she doubts Gale's suddenly feeling generous with her.

Katniss seems to have the same line of thinking, frowns, then her expression flickers into confusion, "Where are my tickets?"

_Gale was holding the…oh._

"I was going to get Prim something!" She starts to get out of her seat.

He shrugs, "Well, I got Madge something."

That's why he said the bird was Madge's. Katniss wouldn't care if he'd swiped her tickets to get his baby sister a big stupid toy, but giving it to Madge wasn't quite the same thing.

Peeta puts his hand on her shoulder. It takes a second, she still looks annoyed, but she calms enough to sit back down.

"_Fine_," she gives him a dark look. "Next time you're helping me win all those tickets back."

Gale shrugs again, "Fine."

They stare each other down, trying to bore holes in the other's head, then, just as quickly as they'd started fighting, they stop.

"Wanna go get on the go-karts before close?"

Katniss nods, "Sure."

They head off, toward the little track, probably to get in another fight when one or the other makes a questionable pass.

Knowing they should turn tail and leave, Peeta and Madge slowly get up and, dragging their feet, follow after them.

"I'm never coming with you guys again," Madge tells him, squeezing the giant bird to her chest.

"At least you got a prize," he mutters. "Katniss told me I couldn't even _think_ about getting the giant 'Mad Hatter Hat', even though she had plenty of tickets ages ago."

"You poor mistreated thing." She stops gives him a bright smile, "At least you didn't end up in the ER."

He rolls his eyes, "The night is still young and we're about to get in tiny cars and go very fast." His shoulders slump, "Just don't let Gale be the one to give me mouth to mouth, okay?"

Madge snorts, "You got it."


	13. until Peeta plays matchmaker

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

…**until Peeta plays matchmaker.**

Fall, Freshmen year

Gale's pretty sure they're on a 'do not admit' list at the fun center after the go-kart incident. Though, really, it's Mellark's fault. Most things are, Gale thinks.

Who knew something with that low a profile could flip so easily?

If he would've just put his foot down and driven like a maniac, like everyone else was, instead of puttering along like a Sunday driver, he wouldn't have been in their way and they wouldn't have ended up in the tires lining the side of the tracks.

The man running the track had promptly run out, fire extinguisher in hand, yelled at them, telling them they were idiost and that this 'place is meant for families!' before telling them to 'get outta my park!'.

Before they left though, it was apparently imperative that the girls, or at least Madge, use the restroom.

So Gale and Mellark get to wait.

"How long does this usually take?" It feels like they've been in there for ages already.

Mellark shrugs, "Well, girls have more to do, I guess."

His sister didn't take this long. Granted, she was six, but still…

"Just sit down and wait. It's all you can do," Mellark flops down on a bench, putting the obnoxious yellow bird Gale had bought to annoy Katniss next to him.

Gale is about to walk off, go wait in the car, when Mellark feels the need to fill the silence around them. He seems to debate with himself for a minute before finally deciding to say what's on his mind.

"You could try being nice, you know?"

Much as he tries not to roll his eyes, he can't help himself. What is Katniss' dopey boyfriend talking about?

"To Madge, I mean."

_Ah…wait._

"Why the hell would I be nice to her?" If Katniss had told this idiot about Gale's stupid little crush on Madge he was never speaking to her again.

Mellark's expression, normally a contented smile, morphs into a smirk, "Oh, come on, man. You think I can't see you looking at her? I thought you were going to grab the guy at the gas station by the collar and drag him out back when he told her he liked her shoes."

"He wasn't looking at her shoes," Gale grumbles. He knew exactly what that asshole was looking at.

"Gale," Mellark looks almost pain, "he was commenting on her _shoes_. Have you ever paid any attention to shoes? He wasn't interested in Madge, trust me."

"What are you-" Oh. _Oh._

He really needed to pay better attention.

Looking smugly superior, Mellark flops around, lounges against the giant bird. "I don't know how you've gotten so many dates in the past acting the way you do, but you could try being, I don't know, less of a dick." He shrugs, "It's been known to work."

Gale huffs, "That would be great, if I liked her."

Which he doesn't, at least as far as Mellark is concerned.

"She'd like you if she got to know the, you know, not douchy side of you."

Peeta Mellark: Motivational Coach Extraordinaire.

Does he really think he's helping? 'Cause he isn't.

If he thinks what he's saying is making Gale anymore confident in his nonexistent abilities to woo Madge, he's dead wrong. The 'Madge Undersees' of the world don't date the 'Gale Hawthornes', it's a simple fact. The sooner Gale accepts that the happier he'll be.

"Maybe I _am_ a douchebag." He has a lot of the hallmark signs of being one.

Mellark chuckles, "Naw, I think you have some strong defense mechanisms at work, but I don't think you're a genuine article douche."

Gale hates all that psychology crap Mellark is so fond of throwing out. He isn't a machine that can be broken down into an infinitesimal amount of pieces, all his wants and needs whittled down to weird mental processes that a bunch of dead people made up decades ago.

"What are you talking about?"

"You," Mellark waves a lazy hand in Gale's direction, apparently painting his aura or some crazy shit, with an invisible brush, "have an amazing inferiority complex."

He does not. In fact, Gale is pretty sure he's better than half the people he knows, present company included.

"You don't think you're good enough for Madge."

That…isn't entirely untrue.

"She's rich. She's smart." It isn't necessarily that Gale isn't good enough for her, it's that _she's_ just too good for him.

"Yeah, too bad you're an engineering student," Mellark snorts. "God knows they're morons that can't get jobs."

He really isn't as funny as he's be led to believe.

"Besides, Madge doesn't care about money,-"

Well she really should. It's what makes the world go 'round after all.

"-if you knew what her life has been like you'd know that." He narrows his eyes at Gale, "And you'd know _that_ if you didn't act like an asshat around her and asked her out. Treating her like a bad case of athlete's foot is just your way of keeping her at arms length, trying to get her to do something to make you hate her, prove to yourself that she's something she isn't."

It takes a considerable amount of effort not to smother Mellark with the giant canary.

He has no idea what it's like to be poor. Just because he's dating Katniss, who'd caught a lot of breaks the past few years. She'd never been in the same financial troubles his family had, she got most of her schooling paid for, she got her 'Mr. Sensitive' who liked her even though she wasn't always the friendliest person to be around.

"Give Madge a little credit, let her make her own decisions. She can't like someone she never really gets to know."

"Like you and Katniss?" Gale doesn't even try to keep the scathing tone from his voice.

Mellark brightens, "Exactly! Do you think I started liking her because of her brilliant interpersonal skills?" He makes a noise, something like a snort, "No, I started liking her because I saw the real her. The Katniss that helped her sister and got excited about going hunting with her dad. The Katniss that actually smiled and was friendly with Madge. She's her own person, but she's like you, she keeps it buried, really, _really_deep, and it took me a long time to get her to trust me." He puts his hands behind his head, relaxes a little more into the canary, "If she weren't so guarded we would've dated a long time ago, and the same goes for you."

It annoys Gale to no end that he and Mellark and he have such similar reasons for liking the girls they do. He's even more annoyed that all his stupid psychological mumbo jumbo makes sense.

Madge really hasn't ever made any indication that Gale's money, more specifically the lack of, made any difference to her. She's always been unfailing polite, despite his decided lack of manners towards her.

Still…old habits die hard, but maybe he'll consider some of it. Not that he'll let Mellark know that though.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Mellark shrugs, sits up and wraps his arm around the bird. He eyes it for a second, considering it, then smiles.

"So…did you really give this to Madge just to annoy Katniss?"

Gale smirks, "Bet your ass I did."

The groan Mellark makes probably scandalizes a few of the families walking out.

"They're going to name a disorder after the two of you, you know that, right?"

As long as 'Hawthorne' comes first in the listing, he's fine with that.

#######

The ride home is uneventful.

Gale gets the backseat, despite attempting to call 'shotgun'. Mellark had given him a jab in the gut with his thick elbow, shot him a look that said 'trust me' before proceeding to stuff Madge into the middle seat with Gale and the bird, which had been dubbed 'Bob', taking the door seats.

"Why can't I get the window seat?" Madge asks looking a little uncomfortable with the seating arraignment.

Gale is too. He can already feel the sweat glands under his arms kicking into overdrive.

"The smallest person gets the middle seat, you know that Madge," Mellark explains, as though he's not giving a stuffed animal full rights and privileges. He then buckles the stupid thing in, beaming at the glaring Madge.

Carefully, desperate not to drench her in sweat, Gale slides in. It takes all the steel in his nerves to not shake as he buckles himself in, settles himself back down in the seat.

He doesn't quite know what to do with his hands, put them in his lap or cross his arms? Should he relax and stretch his arm over the back of the seat like he normally does?

Damnit, Mellark! Did he really have to play matchmaker?

Gale can feel buckets or hot sweat rolling down his back, tries to wipe it off his face without drawing attention to the fact that he's quickly dehydrating himself.

If Madge gets out of the backseat and isn't drenched in his nasty pit sweat it'll be nothing short of a miracle.

Mercifully, or perhaps because he sees the look of increasing panic on Gale's face, Mellark turns on the car and a blast of cold air hit the backseat, like an arctic blessing.

Feeling the sweat begin to dry on his skin, Gale relaxes.

"Peeta! You're freezing me out!"

Madge has her hands vigorously rubbing up and down her arm, trying to use the friction to warm her inexplicably cold skin.

"Just lean on Gale," Mellark tells her. He doesn't so much as glance at the back seat as he pulls onto the road, but Gale can almost see the dopey grin on his face. "He's super hot."

_I'm going to kill him._ They can add that to the list of distinguishing characteristics for the 'Hawthorne Disorder', or whatever Mellark is going to name it, an almost frustrating need to beat the smug out of 'helpful' so-called 'friends'.

Katniss falls asleep in the front seat of Mellark's crappy car, which Gale can feel, quite easily, needs a new set of shocks. He watches as Madge, huddling against Bob the bird, gets drowsier and drowsier. Her eyelids flutter a few times before they drift close and her breathing evens out.

When she starts to slump forward, Gale catches her, tries to prop her against Bob again before finally catching Peeta's eyes in the rearview mirror. He jerks his head in Madge's direction, as if to say 'Well, I got you this far'.

Gale shoots him the dirtiest look he can manage, but finally puts his arm over the back of the seat, maneuvers Madge into the crook of his arm and prays his combo deodorant and antiperspirant is living up to its claims. He's only used up twelve of the twenty-four hours it guarantees.

Mellark wags his eyebrows and Gale has the overwhelming urge to shave them off his smirking face the next chance he gets.

The next half hour is the longest of his life, as they drive back to the apartment. He keeps catching whiffs of Madge's shampoo, raspberry he thinks, maybe strawberry, his mind isn't thinking clearly, and he can tell _her_deodorant is working.

When they finally pull into the parking lot Mellark rouses Katniss just enough to get her up, out of the car, and up the stairs.

Gale extracts himself from around Madge and scoots out of the car, carefully letting her come to a rest in the seat.

"When she goes out, she's out!" Mellark yells from over the railing. "She had a lot of stimulation today, she's all tuckered out. Looks like you'll have to carry her up."

That golden haired bastard had planned this. Gale isn't sure how, but he had.

"What would you do if I weren't here?" Gale yells up.

"I'd carry her," he answers back. "But you're here, so I don't have to do all the heavy lifting. Thanks man! Don't forget Bob!"

With his stomach doing summersaults, Gale debates going up the stairs and…well, he isn't sure what he's planning on doing, but it would be unpleasant.

Instead he glances at Madge, curled up in the seat, feet up under Bob, and sighs.

Gently, he gets his arms around her, heaves her out of the car, expecting her to wake up and scream. That would be his luck, Mellark being a dirty, dirty liar.

She doesn't though, just sleeps on through as he adjusts her in his arms and catches Bob by the fluffy butt, dragging him behind them.

Gale's had practice carrying his siblings and their stupid toys so it's not as hard as it could be, still, Madge is a full sized, if somewhat small, adult and Bob is annoyingly large.

When he gets into the open door of the apartment Mellark is sitting on the couch, Katniss curled up beside him, snickering at Gale's struggle.

"You two drugged her didn't you?" He needs new friends.

Mellark makes a little noise, shakes his head, "She's been a hard sleeper since she was little."

Katniss' grin widens, "I would consider this payback for stealing my tickets, but you're probably enjoying it a little too much."

He is, but he isn't going to let them know that. This is the most physical contact he's had with Madge ever, the most he ever will, so he considers this more of a payoff than a payback.

"Go to hell," he grunts at her.

Not even sparing them a glance, he drags Bob behind him as he carries Madge into her room.

Very carefully, he puts her down, grabs the fleecy looking blanket from the bottom of her bed and covers her. He puts Bob in the corner of her room, in an ancient looking rocking chair, angling him so that he appears to be staring at her. He supposes that's a bit of an asshole move, but it's too funny to resist.

When he leaves the room Katniss is waiting for him, leaning on the counter between the kitchen and the living room.

"I don't know what Peeta told you, but I'm sure it's right." She looks toward the bedroom, presumably where her boyfriend is now getting ready for bed, "He acts like an idiot that hasn't passed second grade most of the time, but he's actually pretty smart. He's good at reading people. Take his advice."

With that she heads to her bedroom, not even looking back at Gale as she does.

Happy that Mellark had apparently kept his personality dissection, or whatever stupid name he had for his analysis of Gale, from Katniss, she'd pity him or something stupid and he doesn't want that, Gale heads for the door.

He's starting to pull it shut when it catches. Mellark, dressed in the tackiest pair of heart patterned boxers Gale had ever laid eyes on, pulls it open again, puts his head just barely out.

"Remember: don't be a dick."

Gale puts his hand on Mellark's face, gives him a shove, back inside the door.

"Don't be a dick, got it."

If Peeta Mellark wants to play matchmaker, fine.

Gale doesn't have a chance with her, he's is still perfectly aware of that, but if Mellark wants to put his dopey face in Gale's business, then when it all falls apart, it'll at least be his fault and not Gale's.


End file.
